Through Fire
by JD11
Summary: What happens when a mysterious Vulcan comes aboard Enterprise? What does he want? Why is he there? TT; rated for mild violence, some bad language, and adult situations Fin
1. For Family and Duty

Author's Note: Look! I'm back! Finally, huh?

Um, well, I've been working very hard on this story for a couple months now- kind of evident from when this takes off from. It's supposed to be a little after 'Harginger'.

Well, enjoy the story and please review. Tell me how the first chapter and all is going for you.

Summary: What happened onboard the _Enterprise_ when a mysterious visitor arrives? Why's he there and what does he want?

Pairings: Trip and T'Pol

Rating: PG-13 for some strong language later on, suggested adult situations, and mild violence

Genre: Action/Adventure, Romance

**__**

**Through Fire: For Family and Duty**

The Vulcan looked at the screen. He knew what it said; he knew the conditions first hand. His eyes closed, imagining what it must have been like. He remembered the other victims… those of their enemy and how they had looked… how they had suffered, how they had died. He remembered the young girl and her little brother and thought of all the children on the three colonies.

He thought of all the families he had seen die on that planet… thought of them as they slowly suffocated to death… their heart gradually coming to a stop… the numbness they must have felt.

And, for a moment, he wished he had been there. That he had been there to comfort them, to be with them in their final moments, to die with them like he should. He never should have left there… his father had been right, the military had not been a good idea for him. Just heartbreak… for everyone.

But, then, rational thought took over and told him how stupid that sounded. He needed to be in control, logical… emotionless if he was going to complete the mission his superiors were sending him on. No matter how crazy it sounded, it seemed better than living through the hell he called his life. He just hoped that it worked…__

-----Enterprise, Bridge-----

"Captain, I'm picking up a distress signal," Ensign Hoshi Sato announced, looking over at her Captain.

Captain Jonathan Archer stood, looking over at his Comm. Officer. "Xindi?"

"I don't think so, sir. It looks more… Vulcan, sir," she announced with surprise.

"Where is it coming from?"

"That nebula."

"Travis," Archer said, his order understood by the Helm Officer, Ensign Travis Mayweather.

"I'm on it, sir." Expertly, Mayweather piloted the starship closer to the escape pod where the signal was coming from. As they got closer, it was easy to see the damaged condition the ship was in.

"Any lifesigns?" Captain Archer asked, taking in the sight of the grayish green pod against the swirling purples, pinks, and blues of the nebula.

"One, sir. And it is Vulcan."

Archer nodded at his Comm. Officer before telling Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, "Can you pull it in with the grappler?"

"I can try, sir," Malcolm answered, his English accent adding a different cadence to his voice than the Indiana-native. Archer turned back to the view screen, watching the mechanical grapplers grabbing onto the pod. "Got it, sir. I'll try to pull it into our Shuttle Bay."

"Good. T'Pol, come with me. Hoshi, tell Phlox to meet us down there."

"Yes, sir," she responded, not taking the time to watch her two highest-ranking superiors walk out the bridge.

-----Enterprise, Sickbay-----

Slowly the young Vulcan began to rouse from his deep sleep, starring blankly at the ceiling above him. Looking to his side, he found that his surrounds were completely unfamiliar to him. Lifting himself up on his elbows, he took a deep breath, trying to stop this head from spinning. Listening, he heard the sounds of a door opening and footsteps walking through the threshold.

Though he couldn't see them, he listened to their conversation quietly; it was as if he was trying to assess where he was and who they were along with any threat they might pose him.

He could hear the higher pitched voice of a male, speaking to the others. He was telling them about his patient's- presumably the Vulcan's- condition. The next voice to speak- a deeper, commanding voice- asked something about his being a Vulcan and questioning that possibility.

A new, female voice jumped in. Her voice was more monotone rather than the giddy man and other, bewildered, one. She stated the possibility that he had come from one of the two Vulcan ships they knew had entered the Expanse.

The deeper male voice spoke again, seemingly accepting the possibility, and inquiring if the Vulcan could be woken. The higher pitched voice- the Vulcan deduced was the Doctor- responded with an affirmative answer.

At that moment, he could hear footsteps approaching his concealed bed. Acting as quickly as he could, the Vulcan folded his shirtsleeve up and removed the device it contained. Breaking it opened, he knew that whatever was in it would quickly spread throughout the large ship.

Three soft thuds were heard on the other side of the curtain and the Vulcan knew they had been the first to come in contact with the drug. Standing on two wobbly legs, he retrieved a circular object from his pants pocket.

It would take time to finish his work before they woke, which wouldn't be for another twenty hours. Plenty of time to do what he needed done. But first things first…

-----Enterprise, Bridge-----

In one fluent motion, the doors to the turbolift opened. Archer, curious, turned to look in that direction just as Selak walked out. Dressed in his crisp uniform, he walked without thought to his position at the engineering console. Even through all of Trip's complaints, he had still been put as the second in command of Tucker's engine room, and the man had been furious at the time. Of course, over the past few mouths, he had warmed up to the Vulcan.

Archer shot a suspicious look over at the Vulcan. He still didn't know how much he could trust the young officer. But, just as it happened with T'Pol, he was beginning to get used to the man as he, too, was starting to integrate himself into the crew.

Looking back out the view screen, he looked at the large nebula they had been investigating. Nothing had turned up as important and they were preparing to leave. But something seemed out of place about that, Archer just couldn't pinpoint it. Shrugging it off, he ordered Travis to take them away and start back on their destination.

The stars whizzed by, enchanting Captain Archer as he slipped back into his mind to contemplate his latest situation. They were on their way to an old mining colony, Trip and Selak having volunteered to help fix some of their broken equipment. In exchange, they were to receive the necessary dilithium _Enterprise _needed to continue running.

But, as long as those two were occupied leaving nothing else to accomplish, Archer wanted to explore some of the other interesting features the area had to offer. He wanted to go back to the old ways. To the days when they were able to explore and meet other people rather than seeking to fight off another in order to save themselves.

Archer sighed. Looking around, he saw the familiar faces that- for most of them- had been there since the beginning. Those officers who had gone with him to fend off the Suliban and save Klaang. Those who he had immense respect for and those he knew would go as far as it took to save their world. And that was what he loved about his dedicated crew.

His eyes continued to wonder, to remember every fact about every officer on the bridge. To remember their names, their families, some of their interest. And, when they settled on Selak, he paused. It was true he knew very little about the young man. That, as a Vulcan, he isolated himself from the crew most of the time. But Archer knew that, no matter what, the man would give his life to protect the ship, the crew, and Earth… even without the blood or genetic ties to any Humans. And that was something he envied about the emotionless Vulcan. Both Vulcans that he knew.

His eyes turned back to the view screen, once again enchanted by the white stars stretching as warp speed distorted them…

-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility-----

"Are you guys all set?" Captain Archer asked his long time friend over the comm., his eyes set on the planet they were currently orbiting.

"Yeah, I think so," Commander Tucker replied, glancing over to Lieutenant Selak- the Vulcan talking to some of the workers. Trip looked the aliens over quickly, noticing immediately their pale skin tone and cheek and forehead ridges. "We'll see ya in a few. Have fun without us."

Archer nodded, even though he knew Trip couldn't see him. A soft smile tugging the corners of his mouth and a long forgotten feeling crept into his stomach. He was excited; finally, a break from the Xindi, even if its only a few hours.

With that, Archer closed the comm. link between them just prior to giving Travis the order to go to warp.

Trip walked over to Delert, the owner and manager of the dilithium mines, "You wanted us to fix somethin'?"

"Right this way, Commander, Lieutenant."

-----Enterprise, Mess Hall-----

"Hey! Valiente! Come sit over here."

Lieutenant Valiente looked through the afternoon crowd that had formed, coming in for a quick meal before their shift. A few tables down from where he stood, he could see his newest friend, Gary White, sitting with two others he didn't recognize. With his tray in hand, Valiente strolled over to their table, very conscious of the fact that all three were MACO's.

The other two watched as the blonde man sat down, noticing his pips and the red lining of his uniform. He, too, took in both of them, seeing that little was the same except for their MACO uniforms. The woman's short, dark hair, deep drown eyes, and darker skin separated her from the brunette man and his green eyes, his skin ghostly white by comparison.

"Oh, guys, this is Lieutenant Dixion Valiente. Valiente, this is Sergeant Glen Anthony and Sergeant Nila Eveleen."

"Hello," Dixion said hesitantly to the other two, suddenly feeling far more awkward than he had at Starfleet Academy.

Anthony merely nodded at him, looking back at his food. Nila, however, gave him a pleasant smile, saying, "Nice to meet you," in a very thick accent- it sounded French or something. African perhaps, but that was hardly Dixion's department.

A blanket of silence fell over them, only disrupted by the endless chatter and sounds made from the others in the room. Dixion sighed, he hated to feel like the odd one out, perhaps he shouldn't have sat with them, but then there really wasn't anywhere else to sit.

"So, how's engineering been? Like it down there?" Gary asked, his freckled face splitting into a teasing smile. Dixion shook his head, reminding the man that he only worked on the environmental systems. "Well someone has ta do it."

Dixion smiled at his friend's accent; it was clear that he came from Ireland, his firry red hair only standing to prove his claim. Valiente had always loved the Irish cadence in their voice, it made them sound jovial all the time.

"Yeah, but it sure can be boring work."

"Well, at least it keeps others from having to do it," Nila joked. Apparently she didn't mind the young, Starfleet engineer.

"So they stick it on me?"

"Who else would want it?" Gary retorted.

"You can have it for all I care." Dixion sighed, admitting, "To be honest, I'd clean the warp injectors for the entire trip, just as long as I get to be in space on a starship, I couldn't care less."

"But you'd rather have some cushiony position, right?"

"That would be preferable," Dixion told Nila, finding that he really liked her odd accent. Maybe it was a little English.

"We should be going; our shift starts in five minutes."

Dixion looked over at the other man- introduced as Glen. This was the first time he had spoken since he sat down, it shocked him a little to hear him interrupt the conversation with his rough, almost scratchy voice.

"Yeah. Sorry, Dixion, but we've got to leave. I'll see ya later, huh?"

"Yeah. Later. It was nice to meet both of you," he said politely, receive a grin from Nila and a scowl from Glen. Sitting back down, he looked at his tray. It was only half eaten but he was hardly hungry.

With a sigh, he picked up the tray and followed the three MACOs' course out of the room.

-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility-----

"Hey, kid. Think ya could go in there and turn off the main power relay? I'd rather not get electrocuted when I try t' fix this," Trip joked, pointing at the shaft he wanted him to go into.

Selak looked up from his work, nearly done but relatively unimportant for the time. Following Trip's hand, seeing it pointing at the hatch door. The Vulcan stood, walking in his regular, long paces to reach the shaft. With ease, he pulled the door off and set it aside.

Trip heard the sudden sound of quickened breathing. He looked up at where the sound was coming from. For a moment, he was shocked to find the condition the young Vulcan was in. His normally bronze skin paled, his breathing quick and shallow, and his eyes starring with untold fear as he gazed into the small shaft.

"What'sa matter?" The southerner asked, standing and walking over to Selak with curiosity.

"Nothing," he responded, suddenly pulling himself out of his stupor.

Trip grabbed his arm, looking at him with concern. "Are ya sure? You don't look too well."

"I am fine…" The Vulcan stopped as he saw the knowing look the Commander held in his eyes. "I am… claustrophobic."

"Really?" Selak nearly smiled, amused at how shocked he seemed at the revelation that Vulcan's truly did have fears.

He raised an eyebrow, a seemingly natural Vulcan gesture, and informed the Human, "Vulcan's do have fears just as Humans. We merely do not display them as often or casually as your species does."

"Right… well, would ya like me to do this? You can do my part instead."

"That would be… most appreciated."

"No problem," Trip responded with a smile, handing over his tool and slipping into the shaft.

Selak moved away from the opened hatch. His heart was still pounding in his ears and he knew he was struggling to maintain control over his breathing. His mind was flooded with old memories, even as he tried to force them away. For the past two years he had not been able to even think about entering something like that without freaking out, now was no different.

Taking one last deep, calming breath, Selak knelt down and began finishing the Commander's work. All the while, he banished all thoughts and memories, focusing solely on the problem at hand.

-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility, A Few Hours Later-----

"I'll be right back, ok? I just have t' ask Delert something," Trip informed his coworker, standing and heading out the door, the Vulcan hardly acknowledge his statement.

Walking along the quiet corridors, he tried to recall the path they had traveled earlier to find Delert's office.

Strolling up to the door, he paused as he heard voice speaking rather loudly inside. Trip, even though he knew that he shouldn't, pressed his ear to the door and listened in on the conversation. He could barely hear through the thick door but was able to make out most of the words.

"Just give them a little longer. They seem to be working quite well with the pumps; they'll have them operational in a day or so," he could hear Delert plead.

"We can not wait any longer. Their ship might return at any moment," said a second voice. It was powerful, commanding.

"They can fix the pumps faster and better than we can, which means more deuterium for you." Delert sounded desperate. Even more so, he was afraid of this other man.

"They have thirty more minutes." Footsteps sounded in the other room and Trip knew they were leaving. Hiding around the corner, he saw three Reptilian Xindi walked out of the room.

Sighing with silent relief, he watched them walk away, thankful they were heading in the opposite direction. A thought dawned on him: they had been talking about Selak and him. And, in thirty minutes, they would be coming to get them.

-----Enterprise, Bridge-----

"Ain't that a site," Archer smiled, marveling at the view he and the bridge had.

Barely a few thousands kilometers ahead of them, a pair of twin stars filled their view, and, just behind that, a large gas nebula provided a backdrop; the sensors indicated that it was almost one kilometer long and wide.

Ensign Mayweather let out a low whistle. Never in all his travels- which had been his whole life- had he seen anything as breathtaking. And he had seen some interesting things in his life- gas giants, new species, super novas, nebulas, and thousands of other such things.

All Ensign Sato could do was awe at the site. With her mouth slightly a gap and a tiny smile forming on her lips, she found the beauty to be a great relief from the war and death that had been raging on for almost eight months.

Even Malcolm, though unimpressed with many natural wonders, couldn't help but find himself the least bit intrigue and stupefied by the image. The shear size and color- the bright pinks, purples, and reds and blues- that created the nebula.

But T'Pol, ever the scientist, took little time to admire the view. Albeit, underneath all her Vulcan logic and control, she was amazed, her "Vulcan-ness" wouldn't allow for any "drooling" over the find.

Once over his initial shock, Archer could still only mutter, "It's good to be back to exploring."

-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility-----

Trip's heart pounded in his chest, racing faster and faster until he feared it might explode. Though he had managed to quiet his breathing, he knew it was still unusually fast and labored. He strained to hear outside of the familiar walls he and the young Vulcan had taken refuge, the pounding against his ribcage causing a problem.

He glanced over at Selak, noticing his pale complexion and shallow breaths. The engineer knew that he didn't want to be in there; that his phobia was scaring him more than the immediate threat outside. He was still curious where his fear had developed and how but chose not to push the already tender subject, not that now was the time.

The noisy footsteps of their hunters echoed in the small area, alerting the two to the movements outside. Words were exchanged in a foreign language, sounding like orders in the form of harsh shouts.

Trip's eyes shut tight, hoping that they weren't going to check their location. They had successfully evaded them three times, finally hiding in the shaft. But, as they knew might happen, the Xindi had found them before their shipmates.

Trip heard the cold, mechanical lock disengage and the hatch being pulled opened, betraying the shaft's hidden refugees. The soldiers beamed with pleasure, pulling the occupants from their hiding place and holding them with firm grips.

Selak watched the scene as it seemed to fly by him in slow motion. His mind flashed with recognition, recalling similar events happening in his life but not daring to speak of them. He hardly allowed his mind to retreat to those memories at all.

The Xindi commander walked up to them, his height allowing him to look down at his captives, giving an even more intimidating look to the ugly alien. His lips tugged up in, what appeared to be, a boastful grin.

"Well, well, well, I finally get to met one of the vile Humans." Trip tried hard not to flinch away at the smell of his hot breath, his ears not missing the sarcastic note the man had put on 'Human'.

Trip struggled against his captor, trying to make himself more comfortable rather than any attempt at escape. Looking out of the corner of his eye, he saw Selak gaze on with a cool look, masking his former fear.

"Take them away," he spat and spun around to leave.

-----Location: Unknown-----

Trip and Selak were taken somewhere by the Xindi, their destination was still unknown to them. Selak looked around the dark interior of the alien facility, unsettled by the eerie feel it had to it.

Walking along the long corridor, he observed the two Xindi guards in front of them. They were in no position to attack quickly if Trip or Selak did anything. But the other two, standing behind them with their weapons aimed at the Human and Vulcan's back, were the true problem.

Selak's eye caught something on the floor, his mind hurrying to find a way to use this to his advantage. It was only when the other two guards turned down the opposite hallway, that Selak took the opportunity. Reaching behind himself, he grabbed for the alien's weapon, trying to pull it out of his hold. But he wasn't quick or strong enough to remove it from his captor.

His jaw made a horrible cracking noise as the butt of the weapon made contact with his face. Selak was forced to the ground, the back of his head hitting the wall. After several seconds of not moving Trip, who was being firmly held by the other Xindi despite his protests, was fearful that he had blacked out. **__**

When the Vulcan moved it was only when he felt the Xindi's foot make contact with his right side, the pain practically blinding him in its intensity. His breath caught, his eye shutting in pain. A soft moan escaped his lips, his mind able to at least stop the scream from leaving his throat.

"Get up!" The harsh yell echoed in his ears, his mind telling him to obey but his body not able to comply. Cold, leather covered hands grabbed his arms, leaving behind bruises as he pulled the young man to his feet and pushing him along. **__**

-----Enterprise, Bridge-----

Captain Archer's mind was on the passing stars, flying past at warp speed. The sight, he had to admit, was beautiful, but all too familiar. He smiled, though. Familiar. That was what exploring had been; now it was fighting.

Archer relaxed back into his chair. Relaxing, as well. He hadn't had the chance in some time. No, not in a long time. Even during the first two years of their mission he hadn't thought of himself relaxed for half the time- he had no idea what stress really was then, though.

But now he knew it all too well. The stress, the pressure, of not knowing where some of your men were. The stress of sending men to their deaths- his own people or others. The stress of finding the weapon, of not failing his people… his world.

Sighing, Archer thought back to his two officers. They- at least Trip- would have enjoyed the sight, the exploring. He wasn't sure how much Selak could appreciate it, after all the Vulcan had spent most of his life on Vulcan studying and a year or so with Humans. He couldn't possibly understand what it had been like for the crew to have those few relaxing hours.

Trip would have as well. He would have liked the chance to take a break- or as much as was possible for the man. He probably would have taken all the time fixing his engines or something. But, like that, he probably had a ball fixing their problem- anything he could get his hands on. He seemed all right with being left behind, right?

But, truth be told, Archer and his long time pal were slipping away from each other. The war with the Xindi had pulled Archer into it, into finding the weapon. He hadn't had time for Trip- but couldn't he have made it for him? Trip did, after all, lose his little sister. He should have been there for him. But there were more than one person hurt from what happened. More than just Trip at risk in that moment.

And he had, after all, plunged himself into his engines. He had worked constantly to hold the ship together. He had contributed to why it was only official reasons that they saw each other now, except the occasional breakfast and dinner. Right?

Archer had tried to rationalize their problems, their friendship, but it all came back to the Xindi. It always did- or was that just an excuse?

Archer sighed again, shifting in his chair. And then there was T'Pol. She seemed to have been there for Trip. She was starting to become a close friend with the engineer, and Archer wasn't sure how that made him feel. Did it bother him? No, not really. It was just… different. Was he jealous? He had tried, after all, to get closer to the Vulcan himself. He wasn't sure. Was he over her? Maybe. He liked how things were between them at the moment, he liked how Trip and T'Pol were no longer constantly bickering. But did he like them together?

"Sir, we're approaching the rendezvous coordinates," Travis announced, pulling Archer out of his musing.

"Slow to one quarter impulse." Archer looked out the view screen, seeing the stars go from stretched to small, points of light. He looked around, his eyebrows creased in confusion.

No one was there…

Archer could feel the bottom drop out of his stomach. They weren't there. They should have been, Trip had assured him that it wouldn't take any longer to fix. He would have been able to contact _Enterprise_ almost an hour ago, had he needed to.

What if they had been intercepted by the Xindi? What if their shuttle had been destroyed? But Archer didn't want to think that way. No, he couldn't. The more logical side of his brain took over- they were just running late. They had lost track of time or something. Or thought that _Enterprise_ was going to take a little longer. That was it. Nothing was wrong.

At least he hoped that was true.

"Malcolm?" The voice that came out was almost whispered, but loud enough for the Security Chief to hear.

The British man shook off his surprise. Looking down at his console, he announced, "No debris within ten thousand kilometers. No ion trails. They haven't been here, Captain. Not yet."

Good, they weren't dead. Not necessarily. No, they were still on Darius Prime. Something else had popped up unexpectantly. Nothing to worry about, _Enterprise _could just go and pick them up. No problem, right?

"Maybe they're having trouble with the repairs. They may have just not left yet," Hoshi said, hopeful that her friend- and, perhaps, friends- were alright.

Archer nodded, that's what he hoped. That's what they needed to be true. "Let's hope so, Hoshi. Travis, lay in a course to Darius Prime. I'll be in my Ready Room," the Captain said as he got up, walking off the Bridge.

-----Location: Unknown-----

Selak dropped to the floor, leaning heavily against the wall as he desperately tried to hide his pain from the Commander. Without his permission, his mind raced back to the last time he had been incarcerated… when he had bought freedom with the wound that still haunted him…

_His feet felt heavy, his breathing labored. His lungs burned, his throat dry. His muscles were tight, barely willing to function. The adrenaline in his system five times what it should be. But his eyes, they were focused on his destination: Freedom. _

_A mechanical clicking alerted the four; locking mechanism were sealing all doors and halls were about to be blocked by doors. They sped up, their escape dependent on it. The first man ducked underneath the descending door, making it to the safety of the other room. And then the next man, following the first, made it under easily. The women ducked under, the Vulcan urging her to go first. Then he dropped to the ground, trying to roll under the door to make it through. _

_He was almost out… almost to freedom… _

_Hands grabbed his feet, turning him awkwardly under the closing door. A sudden white-hot pain ran through his torso, spreading over the rest of his body. A shriek of pain alerted his friends of his distress. They turned, seeing him trapped underneath the door, crushing him to the floor…****_

"How are you doing?" Trip asked quietly, oblivious to his memory.

"I am fine. But I do believe the guard bruised one of my ribs," he explained.

"I meant… other things."

"This cell is relatively large, it will not bother me."

Trip nodded, thinking it was, even to him, a tight confinement. But that must have gone to show how much Selak knew of cells… and probably how he came to be claustrophobic. Throughout the mouths the two had known each other, he had barely ever told him a thing. Only his claustrophobia had been revealed to the man, besides his exemplary engineering skills.

Trip watched him, knowing that the distant look on his eyes spoke volumes about his fears. Yet, at the same time, revealed nothing about himself to the southern man. Perhaps, as time went on, Trip would learn more about the Vulcan.

Or, rather, he hoped that he wouldn't have to wait much more than a few hours to discover what he wanted to know.

-----Enterprise, Bridge-----

"Delert. It's good to see you again."

"Captain Archer," the alien replied over the comm. "I did not expect you back."

"We're here because our men weren't at the rendezvous coordinates. I thought they might have run into a problem with the pumps and hadn't left," Archer informed the man, pushing himself out of his seat and approaching the view screen.

Delert seemed to be nervous, his expression not showing any of the concern Archer thought he should have when he said, "No. They are gone. They left some time ago."

"I don't think so, Delert. If they had, we would have seen them," the Captain protested, not really angry but more upset by the news.

"I am afraid I do not know what you are talking about, Captain. You are people left hours ago, just as they were supposed to. Now, I really must be going, Captain. Lot of work to do."

"Wait just a second, Delert. What are you talking about? They're not there, no one was. Which means they must be here," Archer told him, trying hard to mask his anger and concern.

"Well, they are not. Just… just leave. There is no longer anything we need from you." With that, Delert closed the channel, leaving the bridge crew starring at the view of his planet.

"Malcolm. You're with me," Archer announced braking the silence that had fallen over the usually noisy bridge.

"Captain?" The tactical officer question, looking up at Archer, the man rising from his chair and heading for the turbolift.

"I'm going down there myself."

-----Location: Unknown-----

"Ya know, even after all this time, I don't think we've ever really… ya know, talked," Trip stated suddenly, braking the uncomfortable silence that had existed for almost two hours.

"No, Commander, I do not believe we have," Selak admitted, looking up from his place in the cell opposite the Commander.

"Well, tell me 'bout yourself," Trip suggested, looking up with mild expectation in his eyes. After he saw Selak's raised eyebrow, he tried, "Do you have any siblings? Big family?"

"My family is relatively small." Trip nodded. He had underestimated the Vulcan ability for stating the obvious. "Yours?"

Trip raised his head in surprise. He hadn't really expected him to ask. "Well, my older brother and his wife live in Ireland with their two sons, Matt and Brian."

"How old are they?"

"Matt's twelve and Brian's… seven." Trip was surprised at how much Selak seemed to be interested in his family.

"Your sister? She… died in the attack on your world, correct?" For an emotionless Vulcan, Selak's voice seemed to reflect his sympathy well.

"Yeah," was the hushed reply.

"My brother is dead as well."

Trip looked up at the admission. He could see in the young man's eyes that he reciprocated his feelings, understanding what it was to lose someone as close as a sibling. "Was it… recently?"

Selak sighed; a curt nod was his only response. "Did you lose any other family?"

"No, thankfully. My parents had moved north and my brother lives in Europe. So, no."

"My home was not as lucky." Selak could see the confusion in the engineer's face, knowing that he had heard the quiet sentence.

"Where do you live?"

"No where on Vulcan, at least I did not grow up there. My brother and I were raised on a science and research colony."

"What happened?"

"A rare viral outbreak killed everyone there. It has been too contaminated to return. I was… fortunate enough to be away because of my job." Trip could hear the faint emotions in his tone, see some flicker of pain and sorrow in his eyes as he fought to remain in control through his story.

"So you lost your entire family to an epidemic?"

"Both directly and indirectly." Selak was content to finish there, Trip's curiousity remaining unspoken while known. "My parents wanted both my brother and myself to go into the medical field and work there with them. But… I wanted to be an engineer and my brother, Vir… he just wanted to get away."

"What did he do? As a job, I mean?" Trip was intrigued by the Vulcan's story, listening closely and watching with interest to his tale.

"He became a medical researcher. Vir had always been quiet intelligent, a genius perhaps. The pressure he put on himself was enormous. And, what he explained to me about his work, he dealt with some… appalling projects. When our parents and friends died, he just… killed himself. I do not blame him…"

If the story hadn't been so depressing, Trip would have smiled at the Human mannerisms he had introduced into his speech. _And I thought my life sucked_, Trip mentally scolded himself, easily understanding that what Selak had explained was only the tip of the iceberg in his complicated life.

"Well… that was depressing," Trip commented, trying to lighten the mood but saw how little effect it had on the Vulcan. Then began, "You know…" /-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

**__**

Well, there you have it- the first chapter of my newest story.

Please R/R and tell me what you think so far. Hopefully some of you will return to go on and read the next couple. If that means you, look out for chapter two in about a week. Thanks for reading!


	2. For Friends and Findings

Author's Note: Hello again to all of those who made it. This is a little earlier that I planned to have updated, but I thought with whatever they're doing in the next few days it might be safer to try now and fix later. I hope you enjoy the chapter and R/R please.

And, just for Phaserlady, I went back and fixed of the comments you made. Um, I did go back and watch 'North Star'- you're right, he said he was from New York. But I could have sworn he said he grew up in Indiana. Maybe I was just thinking Sam from 'Quantum Leap'. Who knows? But, thanks for the reviews and to be mean like that. I expect you to continue, it keeps me on my feet.

Summary: As the search for Trip and Selak continues, what will become of the two officers? And how will Archer finally find them?

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**__**

**Through Fire: ** **For Friends and Finding  
  
**-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility-----

"Where are my officers?"

"They left, I already told you that, Captain. Please-"

"No, I don't think they did, Delert," Archer interrupted.

"Captain-"

"If they really left, then why did we pick up their shuttle pod in your docking bay?"

Delert seemed nervous- scared like something was going to jump out of the walls and eat him alive. He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying desperately to hide their shaking, as he stuttered out, "I-I don't k-know w-what you're t-talking about."

"Oh, but I think you do," he taunted. "Just like I think you know where my officers are."

"I-I, uh, I-" Delert paused, taking a deep, cleansing breath. "I think you should j-just leave now."

His sudden change from stuttering to firm hardly startled Archer, rather the Captain just smiled. Looking over at Malcolm, his nodded. "Very well, if you insist, we'll leave. But we'll be back. Count on it."

Archer marched away, his security officer following behind. Delert turned his head, watching them leave with little relief.

Once outside the door, the beeping of Archer's communicator caught his attention. As the pair turned a corner, he pulled down harder on his zipper than he had intended. Pulling the object out, "Archer here."

"Captain, what has Delert said?"

"Not much except that Trip and Selak left. We're on our way back now. Was there something you wanted?"

"Yes, while running scans of the planet, I discovered a dampening field covering the lower levels of the facility."

"It might be worth checking out," Archer replied, making sure that Malcolm heard what was being said. "We'll be back within the hour."

"Aye, Captain. T'Pol out." Using his thigh to fold the communicator, Archer continued walking, Malcolm only one step behind.

-----Location: Unknown-----

Selak dropped to the floor, his arms too weak to blunt the impact, making him land hard on his face. His body throbbed all over, aching from the physical torture he had endured for hours. The old wound on his side had gone numb from pain some time ago and now, he found, that he was paying for it as a feeling, similar to stabbing of needles, slowly woke it up.

Through the soreness of his neck and pounding of his head, he managed to turn it enough to see the Commander being forced to his feet and hauled out of the room, his protests being easily silenced.

Selak's head settled back on the cool metallic floor. He was exhausted, both from the energy of struggling but also of fighting against the memories the place evoked. He just wanted to forget about that place in his mind but he was finding that it wouldn't leave him alone.

With a grunt of effort, Selak slowly managed to push his pained body off the ground. His back leaned against the back wall, his eyes squeezing shut from the pain it cause. His back, he knew, was covered with fresh bruises, over lapping the old, almost invisible scars he already owned.

Running his right hand over his face, Selak noticed the tinted imprints on his wrist. Pushing his shirtsleeve back, his fingers ran over the old scar, his mind racing back to how he had gotten it.

_The shackles dug deep into his skin, sending small streams of green blood down his arms. His arms were tired, practically asleep, from being held in an upright position for so long. The strain on his arms grew as they had to support his body for a longer and longer period. _

_His upper body was cold; they had stripped him of his thin shirt. His eyes stung, dried tears on his checks from when they had watered at the sudden bright lights. His voice he knew must have been hoarse after all his screaming. _

_The smell of copper hit his nose in steady streams. Thick, green blood covered his torso. Burns had been placed all along his back, glossed with green. His chest was sliced; a sharp knife, he barely recalled, had been repeatedly run across his bronze tinted skin. Light green stained his body; the Vulcan's dried blood was uncomfortable. And, hardly visible through the blood, he knew fresh bruises were growing. _

Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to banish the thoughts from his mind. A single tear escaped his hold, streaming down his cheek.

He just wanted it all to end…

-----Location: Unknown-----

Trip's resistance faded away, his mind feeling like it was floating or maybe soaring. He wasn't sure. He wasn't sure about much. His body's struggle against the restraints dimmed, before he went completely limp.

A single tube ran into the vein on his neck, slowly pumping an amber liquid into Trip's unaware body. His vision doubled and unsure. His body was numb, he felt almost nothing. He hardly even remembered struggling against its implantation.

In the distance, he could hear a voice but couldn't put a name or face to it. Whipping his head around, he tried to find the man but couldn't. He wasn't in there… perhaps the voice was a delusion.

Trip tried to blink the haze from his eyes, tring to bring his mind back to reality. But, in the end, the attempt was in vain. Whatever they had put him on, it was far too powerful to fight… to escape from…

-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility, Lower Levels-----

"I wonder what's so important down here that they don't want anyone to know about?" Malcolm thought out loud, turning to see if Archer was going to say anything, as the two of them carefully crept down the halls of the lower level. The dark hall unnerved him slightly, kept him on his toes, as they made their way somewhere- nowhere.

"Who knows, it could be as easy as extra dilithium they don't want anyone to know about."

"True. Or maybe-"

Archer cut Malcolm off when he pushed him back, making the security officer hit his head on the metallic wall. With a stifled moan, he looked around the corner, trying to see who was coming.

Both pairs of eyes peered out, watching as two Xindi came out of room off the far wall. The two- seemingly guards or lower ranking soldiers- carried with them an unconscious body. The man looked dead. His thick head of blonde hair and tanned skin indicated that he was definably not one of Delert's people.

"Was that-"

"Two Reptilians," Archer nodded.

"That would be something worth hiding," Malcolm remarked. "That must have been Trip with them; they must be keeping Trip and Selak down here. Sir, we're going to need more back up. We need to bring some backup down here."

"Agreed. Let's get back to the ship."

-----Location: Unknown-----

_The alien grabbed his face, forcing open his mouth. _

_His arms dug into the chains, his shoulders slowly ebbing their way out of their sockets. Blood trickled down his arm; another dropped burning his eye. _

_The alien stepped forward, cutting open his uniform. _

_The sick, sucking sound pierced the air. A pain throbbed in his abdomen. The knife slowly extracted from his body. _

_"Cha- for- te."_

_The man pulled hard on the chain around his neck, cutting the side into his neck. _

_Pain ran through his chest; the alien machine against his pectoral, his arms bound in front of him. _

_His face made contact with the rock face. His cheek burned, blood dripping onto his clothes. _

_His eyes followed the pattern; a beautiful design crafted into the sand around the rocks_

_"Cha- for- te."_

_The boy's eyes starred blankly up at him, blood trickling out of his half-opened mouth. Gunfire landed all around him; shouts and screams filled the air. _

_He lowed himself carefully into the chair, looking blankly up at the table in front of him. _

_His arms strained as her hung just over the ground. Cold air pricking his bare flesh._

_He looked at the monitor, starring at the man. He fell silently, his eyes remaining open even with his death. A loud applause erupted. _

His eyes snapped opened. Looking around himself, Selak tried to get his bearings. For a moment, he thought he was there, in the same place in his dreams. His heart was beating feverously in his chest, his breathing fast and shallow.

Before he was able to calm himself, his body still trying to fully wake, the door slid open. Almost instinctually, he shrank back into the corner, unconsciously making himself as small as he could. He couldn't help it; it was as if his old habits, his instincts, were taking over and his mind thought he was again at the hell that lived in his dreams.

The Vulcan watched as the limp body of Commander Tucker was tossed into the cell. The two Xindi scowled, mostly emotionless as they shut and locked the door on their two prisoners.

As soon as they had left, the Vulcan unfolded himself and scampered over to his CO. His appearance was daunting; he was haggard and was in dire need of a shower and shave, not to mention change of clothing. Looking the unconscious man over, Selak recognized several familiar factors of illness.

Though the room was rather cool, he was sweating badly and seemed to have a high fever. Checking his eyes, Selak found they were dilated. His pulse was erratic; beating much faster than Selak knew a Human's heart should go.

What he noticed most was the tremors. The Commander's body was shaking uncontrollably and it troubled the Vulcan to see the man in such a condition.

But he found his lack of ability to help much worse. He had no water to cool the man nor did he have any way of knowing what was wrong with him. He could do nothing more than watch him and hope that he would improve.

For some time, Selak watched in hopeless silence as he waited for Trip to wake up. He couldn't know for sure what they had done to the man. His trembling had decreased very little, if at all, and he was still sweating badly in the cold room. Trip's brow was beaded with sweat, his hairline damp making him look as if he had recently gotten out of the shower.

Leaning against the far wall, he looked emotionlessly at the sleeping Human at the other end of the cell. After the guard had tossed him inside, he had positioned him more comfortably over there, no true reason to his action just that they seemed… right to do.

Sighing, he rested his head against the wall. Closing his eyes, he tried hard to stop the onslaught of old memories, trying to control his mind into silence. To meditate, even if it were only for a moment.

But his mind refused to quiet; to give him any moment of peace that he so deserved.

After several minutes of failed attempts, Selak opened his eyes. First, he quickly looked over at the engineer. Unfortunately, he was still asleep. Looking down at his arm folded in his lap, a soft smile graced his lips. It was a smile of satisfaction; of triumph and pride that even a Vulcan felt deep down inside their hearts.

Reaching down the sleeve of his shirt, his hand extracted a tiny, broken piece of haul plating. Lucky for him, the ship seemed to have recently suffered damage on that level, his "failed" attack giving him the opportunity to grab and hide the object. He had planned to use it for his escape but- looking at Trip- it seemed that he might have to adjust his plan. Or, at least, wait until the man could move properly.

Slowly, wearily, Trip's eyes opened. Selak, startled, returned the metal slab to its hiding place before rushing to his side. All the while hoping he wasn't too weak to at least tell him what had happened.

But before he could get his question out, Trip was forcing his tired body away from the young Vulcan. He seemed delirious; his face etched with horror and fear as if he saw some horrible creature instead of the Vulcan that was bending over to help him.

Trip watched through blurred eyes as the distorted form tried to approach him. His head whipped about on its own accord as he tried to understand the frightful tricks his mind was playing on him. His ears could hear a voice, most likely the unknown form, speaking to him. The words were jumbled; confused beyond the man's understanding of the language.

"It is all right. I am not going to hurt you," Selak assured the man, even though he knew his calm words were having little effect on the disturbed man. But Trip continued to fight him. Unfortunately, in his state, his arms continued to try and grab his shirt just as much as they were trying to bat him away.

Selak moved back a bit, not wishing to be hit again by his disturbed CO. But, before he could move too far away, Trip's hand grabbed a hold of his shirt, ripping some of the material in his fit.

Startled, Selak jumped back, not bothering to look at the damage to his uniform. "Calm yourself, Commander," he scolded, trying to push through the- most likely- drug induced haze.

Soon Trip did just that. His flailing calmed; his eyes drooped as body relaxed against the metallic floor. A frustrated sigh escaped the Vulcan as he saw that the Human fell back into unconsciousness.

"Humans," he breathed with a shake of the head. "What did they give you?" Looking at the Commander, it appeared that many of the symptoms- shaking, sweating, and so on- had not dissipated. His mind was still clouded with the drug; it must have been powerful.

Turning his attention away from the sleeping human, he turned back to his former position against the wall. For the first time, he noticed what Trip had done. His shirt had been ripped from the left half of his collar until almost the end of his shoulder. Without knowing it, the Commander had just exposed a touchy part of the Vulcan's past.

-----Enterprise, Conference Room-----

All the senior staff, Commander Tucker's position replaced by Major Hayes, huddled around the conference table. Looking over the schematics to the mining facility, their rescue plan to retrieve their officers underway.

"You said there's no guards to the lower levels- a few of my men could beam down and retrieve them," Major Hayes announced, looking to Archer for permission or some type of acceptance of his idea.

"Captain, it may not be that simple."

"What do you mean, T'Pol?"

"With the dampening field over the lower levels," she said, adjusting the screen to show a visual, "we can neither beam in nor out of that area of the facility. In addition, it will not allow our weapons to work. Your men," she told Hayes, "will be defenseless. I doubt they are prepared for hand to hand against Reptilian soldiers."

"Then how do you propose to get the Commander and Lieutenant?" Hayes retorted. T'Pol only rose an eyebrow, not dignifying his remark with a response.

"Doctor?" Archer suddenly spoke, an idea coming to mind as he turned to the Denobulan. "Is there anything that could knock out the Xindi? Something we could release into their ventilation system? Something that won't harm our officers?"

Phlox though for a moment. "I might be able to synthesize something, but-"

"Good, get working on it," Archer ordered, turning away from Phlox in fashion to dismiss him. With a sigh, Phlox walked out, missing the last half of the meeting.

"If a small team beamed here," Malcolm said, pointing to a section of the facility, the computer zooming in on the area. "They could release the gas into the ventilation, then beam out as the second team beamed down… here. It's the best access to the lower levels, the same one we used to get down there."

Archer nodded, the plan set. "Malcolm, you lead the second group. Have two MACOs escort an engineer for the first group. You, Hayes, and two other MACOs will retrieve the Commander and Selak. Get masks from Dr. Phlox to protect you from the gas. Dismissed."

-----Location: Unknown-----

Trip's body trembled violently as he slowly surfaced into consciousness. His first instinct was to just turn over and vomit, the thought only stopped by his inability to stop shaking and to move his body.

He could faintly hear someone else in the room; another body moving around. Maybe closer to him. Maybe away from him. Maybe he was just imagining it. Trip couldn't tell.

Turning his head to the side he found that the effort of doing so was hardly worth it as his vision was too blurred to make out any more than an outline of something. A black figure… moving closer and closer, at least he though it was coming closer. Maybe away from him…

Trip wasn't sure. He just wasn't sure of much…

He couldn't remember much.

A low murmur… distorted words, perhaps… echoed in his mind. None of the sound made sense to him… meant anything to him. The dull sensation of someone touching his shoulder registered somewhere in his mind.

Slowly- very slowly- the words started to clear out. Started to sound like words. Something- the figure- was telling him to stay calm. His features began to clear, become less distorted. Soon Trip was able to see a Vulcan standing over him.

Selak…

The word came to mind. The name… he knew him. Knew the man but couldn't place it.

"Commander. Commander?" The figure asked again. Trip tried to respond, his mouth moving but nothing coming out. "I'm right here, Commander. I'm right here."

Trip tried to focus on his face, on his voice. He tried to recall where he knew him from, who he was, and where they were. But all he could focus on was something on his chest. A design… a picture of something.

The longer he looked at it, the more pronounced the lines became. The lines were thicker… connected in loops… straight lines here and there connecting everything together. His eyes followed the lines, his mind trying to use it as a focal point. His mind absorbing the image.

"Commander? Can you hear me? Please answer," the man coaxed. A moan escaped his lip as he tried to answer. "I'll take that as a yes. Commander, what happened to you? Do you remember?"

Trip tried to remember… to work back further into his mind to recall what had happened to him. Did something happen? He couldn't remember. Maybe he didn't want to remember.

His eyes drooped closed. The dark was much more peaceful, there was nothing there to remember… just the darkness. Just the peace.

But Selak's words didn't stop. He kept talking to Trip, tried to wake him back up… but Trip tried not to listen. He wanted to tell him to shut-up and go away; to leave him alone. But the words wouldn't come… they started to slip from him mind, he was no longer able to make out what Selak was saying, what he was asking.

He just let the darkness engulf him…**__**

-----Enterprise, Sickbay-----

"Captain, I must remind you that I am still protesting against using this, it could be very dangerous for all concerned," Phlox stated when Archer entered the room, Malcolm and Lieutenant Valiente right behind him, and two MACOs on their tail.

"Your concerns are duly noted, Doctor, but this may be our only option."

Phlox's nod was solemn as he handed over the gas, knowing he would get it back for they would only need a third of what he had created.

"Thank-you, Doctor." Archer took the container, looking down at the silver cylinder. For a split second, he almost entertained the thought that nothing was inside, but, just as quickly as it came, it left.

Valiente stepped forward, taking the object from Archer, looking it over. "Lieutenant, release only 200ccs. Anymore can kill everyone; it may even complicate the filters on the masks."

"And the masks?"

The British accent reached Phlox's ears; he recognized it as Malcolm's voice. "Those two crates; I modified them already. They should be able to filter out the gas efficiently for… at least an hour. But I wouldn't push it much past that."

Malcolm gestured to the crated, the MACOs grabbing a side to carry them out. The Britishman followed, clearly keeping an eye on the crates he was now in charge of.

"Go to the transporter room," Archer ordered the Lieutenant, the man nodding to both of them.

"Captain," Phlox said, his voice almost dismissive.

"Doctor." Archer turned, walking away, he would talk to Phlox about this later.

-----Location: Unknown-----

Selak pivoted on his heels, turning to face the other wall. If his counting was accurate- as he was sure it was- it was the 258 turn. He sighed- that meant it was his 1,290th step… 1,291st…

Pacing. He found it was quite useless, pointless thing. A waste of time, a waste of energy. It solved nothing, it accomplished nothing. Just a waste of energy…

But, then, perhaps that's what it was meant to do… help clam the adrenaline rush in times that you could do little more than pace… had little more than enough room to pace…

… 259th turn…

Perhaps he was only doing it because of his nerves; his anxiety… or even boredom. He still- ever since a few years ago- dreaded small spaces. A turbolift or the cell he and Trip shared could be managed- albeit a large annoyance. But anything smaller- such as a crawl space- scarred him to death. He was lucky enough to be spared, to have his own people understand, just as he could weasel out of such things on the _Enterprise_.

… Maybe it was just the waiting… maybe he only paced because he had nothing else to do but wait…

… 260th turn…

… Maybe it was his fears of the Commander never walking again. Or just waiting for him to do so…

… 261st…

'Maybe they will come for us soon,' Selak thought, pausing on his 1,309th step. Even after he thought it, he couldn't decide who he meant: the Xindi or the _Enterprise_ crew.

He turned, not taking the final step in his pace…

… 1,310… 1,311… 1,312… 1,313… 263rd turn…

Trip moaned, stopping Selak. The Vulcan turned toward him, surprised by his sudden movement. He knelt down, once again checking the Commander's pupils and then pulse. His fingers pulled away, satisfied with the results.

But it was just then that he noticed something on the tips. Something red- blood… human blood, he had seen enough to know.

Selak tried to move his head, carefully as to not cause him any more pain. There it was, a small stream of blood trickling down his neck. He pulled away at the Commander's shirt collar, trying to find the source. A small, but noticeable cut was placed just at the base of his neck- he couldn't believe that he hadn't noticed it before.

The cut was deep and not bleeding a lot. The Vulcan noticed that there was no dried blood; an easy assumption that the Commander had move, braking opened whatever had held it closed.

Selak looked around; he needed something to stop the bleeding and cover the wound. Looking down at the Commander, his eyes caught the seam of his shirtsleeve. It might be tricky with the placing of the wound, but he could manage.

He would have to manage…

-----Enterprise, Transporter Area-----

Lieutenant Valiente trembled as he stepped onto the transporter pas. He had, of course, heard of and studied them but he had never before been through one. As an engineer, he knew that he would- in theory- be fine, but- in reality- he was petrified of the thing.

He turned around, a clear view of the transporter room. His hazel eyes took in the room around him, watching the MACOs opening the two crates they had just set down.

His eyes turned away, his nerves amplifying the sound of someone walking into the room into far more eerie noises. Captain Archer walked in, looking around the room- most likely checking their progress.

"Here, Dixion, you're gonna want this," Gary joked, shoving one of the masks into Valiente's hand. "Don't worry about this; trust me, I've been through this thing a couple-o-times. It's a piece of cake."

"Right," Dixion sighed, his breath coming out in shaky rasps. Even with his friend's assurances, he wasn't sure about transporting; it just wasn't right to have your body scrambled and put back together.

Passing over the cylinder to White, he slipped on the mask, finding it odd to breathe with the thing on. He took back the cylinder, amazed that he was less frightened by that than the transporter.

"Good luck, you three," Captain Archer told them, nodding at them as he spoke. Valiente looked to his left, noticing that a second MACO had joined them, his own mask hiding most of his face.

"Don't forget, we'll beam you down right where the environmental system is. On your signal, we'll beam you back up. We'll be waiting."

"Yes, sir."

Archer nodded; the transporter chief beaming them away. Dixion swallowed, trying to keep his breathing even and steady; all the while unsure if it was the butterflies in his stomach or his molecules being scattered that was bothering him.

Dixion's breath caught, only releasing itself after saw that he was no longer in the transporter room. He looked down at himself. Well, at least he didn't materialize backwards. Everything seemed ok.

He barely heard the quick movement of the MACOs as they secured the area, the other guy guarding the door as Gary beckoned him into the small room. Gary's weapon was pointing at the far wall, his eyes taking in the area in record time- they both knew this had to go quickly.

"Do what you have to do but make it fast," he warned, stepping closer to the door.

Dixion nodded, trying to shake off his nerves from the transporter and now the danger he just realized he put himself in.

Taking a deep breath he moved over to the control panel. It was easy enough to access what he needed, but much harder to try and figure out the language. As far as he could tell, he did it right; but they would find that out in a few minutes, wouldn't they?

Dixion looked over at Gary, everything was going smoothly as far as he could tell. Now just to release the gas… right, what did the doctor tell him again? 300ccs? No, no it was lower than that. Not 100, that couldn't do much, could it? Was it 200 or 250?

Dixion's heart quickened. He couldn't get this wrong. The Doctor had said that he would kill everyone if he went over, including the Commander and Lieutenant they were trying to help. Not to mention that he could harm himself and the rest of the teams.

This had to go right…

He wanted to say 250, it sounded right. But what if it was too much? 220ccs, that would have to work well enough. Right? He hoped.

Dixion opened the valve, watching the numbers carefully. At 220, he stopped it, closing the valve quickly. There, they were still alive… but, then, he'd imagine that it'd take a few minutes to work.

"I'm done," Dixion reported through his mask, his voice odd, even to his own ears.

Gary nodded, pulling out his communicator as Dixion finished off the last few details. "Captain? White, here. Valiente's finished with the gas, we're ready to get out of here."

Captain Archer listened from the transporter room, looking up at Malcolm and his team up on the pad. He nodded to the transporter chief, telling him to beam them down first- it was better to get moving before the gas's effects had even a slight chance of wearing off.

The five crewmembers disappeared before him, all of them armed with weapons, though they knew they would do little good. It still seemed a prudent idea and it made them feel better.

"We're locking onto you now." Archer looked to the chief, waiting for him to ask permission to beam the small team up. But the request never came. Instead, the engineer seemed confused, frantically trying to figure out what was wrong. "Ensign?"

"I've lost their signals, sir. I can't get a lock."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"I don't know, sir. It looks like some kind of energy field is blocking the scanners," the Ensign reported, looking to his Captain.

Archer nodded, telling him to work on it. "White. Are you still there? We're having a problem with the transporter. We can't beam you up. Did you get that?"

-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility, Lower Level-----

"Do you have any idea where they might be kept?" Hayes asked after they had materialized, as his men- or rather Glen Anthony and Nila Eveleen- secured the area.

"No, the Captain and I only saw Trip for a short time on the lower level. We didn't follow."

"Than we have a lot of ground to cover in the short time we have," Hayes stated, some of his words messed up by the mask over his face, Malcolm able to figure out he meant without them.

"We should go right… I think that's where they went."

"Ok, let's go. Eveleen, take point. Anthony, watch our six." Malcolm watched the Major walk away, following Eveleen. He scowled, annoyed at how he always seemed to find some way- even if it was only a small thing- to take over command.

-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility, Environmental System-----

"Captain? Captain, are you there?" White asked into the communicator, his cries catching the attention of the other two.

"What's wrong?" The other MACO asked, not letting his fear get in the way of his duties as he continued to stand at his self-ordered position.

"I don't know. We've just lost contact with _Enterprise_."

"Which means they probably can't lock onto us. They won't be able to transport us," Dixion stated, feeling like he couldn't breath with the bulky mask over his face much less talk.

"Then we should try to find some way off the planet. That, or Major Hayes. They might be able to contact the ship," Gary suggested.

"It might be a temporary glitch; _Enterprise_ might fix it in a few minutes. If we move around they might not be able to find us."

"The only problem with that, Samson, is that whole 'might' part. They might, they might _not_. We need to get out of here, we only have an hour with these things. That's not a lot of time for those engineers to work their magic," White retorted, seemingly solving their problem.

"I agree with Gary, we should try to find the Major and Lieutenant. That or the shuttle pod."

"What do you mean, shuttle pod?" Samson asked, looking at him.

"The Shuttle Pod Commander Tucker used to get down here. It's still here. We could use that to get back to the ship. Maybe our communicators will still work internally. We could tell Lieutenant Reed where we are and what's happening."

Gary looked from Samson to Valiente. He smirked, amused with his friend. "Damn, you're good. Lead the way, I don't have a clue where the pod might be."

-----Location: Unknown-----

Selak's head leaned back against the cool surface of the wall. All he wanted was to fall asleep; to never wake up again. He wished that he could just stopped remembering, that his dreams could be blissfully nothing… that he could have something remotely close to rest.

But it seemed that, especially where he was, that was close to impossible. With a sigh, he opened his eyes again, looking up at the Commander. He was still out since the last time he had slipped into unconsciousness.

Ever so slowly, trying not to agitate his pained shoulder or aggravated ribs, he crawled over to Trip. He had had much experience with Humans- with many species- enough to know how to check the pulse and a few other vitals.

Pressing his fingers to Trip's neck, he felt a steady- albeit slightly fast- beating. But it had begun to slow some, he assumed that was a good thing. Carefully, he opened each eye, finding that the pupils reacted properly to the light. Which meant there was no brain trauma- at least that what he thought it meant.

Falling onto his side, Selak realized just how tired he really was. How much he needed to sleep. But, he sighed, knowing that would be near impossible with how on edge he was- how much adrenaline was pulsing through his veins.

He took a deep breath, hoping it would calm him. But the action made him cough, an odd feeling at the back of his throat. His lungs seemed to itch, the sensation growing, making them feel as if they were on fire. His breathing became more labored, the burning making it hurt to breathe.

A sharp pain filled his chest, as if he were having a heart attack. But, somehow, he knew that was not true. The pain dulled; as it did, his mind blanked out, his vision blurring. He just concentrated on breathing, trying to keep from slipping into unconsciousness.

As the pain grew to almost nothing, he realized how impossible that goal might be. His eyes slipped closed…

---------------

**__**

How was it? I know how their plan might sound, but trust me…

Please R/R and tell me how it's going.


	3. For Strangers and Enemies

Author's Note: Hi, everyone. I'm sorry that this took so long, I've been very busy the last few weeks- tennis, re-enacting, being sick- so I've sort of forgotten. But, the important thing is that I've finally gotten around to doing so. So, read on, enjoy, and please R/R.

Summary: As Malcolm and Hayes try to find Selak and Trip, is their time running out? Will they be able to make it back to the ship before…?

**__**

**Through Fire: ** **For Strangers and Enemies**  
  
-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility, Lower Level-----

Malcolm took a deep breath, having to constantly remind himself to do so. Subconsciously he was quite aware of the toxin that was in the air. Just as he was aware that, with the mask on, it wouldn't harm him. But that didn't quiet his feel of paranoia, especially at the thought of just suddenly keeling over from it.

He looked to his right, seeing Hayes easily walking through the hall just a step or two ahead of him. The Major didn't seem to be having any trouble breathing, his mind to focused on the goal ahead of them. On the reason that they were there.

Malcolm wanted to sigh, but wasn't sure if his lungs would take it. Instead he just looked away, trying to do the same. He shifted his weapon, knowing that it was useless but holding it anyway. It made him feel better to think that he was armed, even if he may not be.

A small creak behind him caused Malcolm to whip around. The MACO behind him halted immediately, startled at suddenly having three weapons pointed at him. The team relaxed, realizing that it had been nothing more than the man stepping on a lose plate or something.

"Sorry," was his muffled response, the mask garbling his voice.

Malcolm turned back around, he felt better- less humiliated- to noticed that the noise had startled Hayes as well. Perhaps that was a childish thought- his constant competition with Hayes- but it just came to him, thoughts like that. And, no matter how much he tried not to be such a prick about the matter, Hayes always did something to start the cycle all over again.

Malcolm shook his head. No matter how much thoughts of Hayes kept him from thinking about the air, he needed to focus. Focus on Trip. On Selak. He needed to focus on the mission. To think about the two of them, to commit to memory where they were and where they were going. To mentally map the place out.

But, after a few minutes of that, his mind was once again bored, moving back to the thoughts of what he was breathing in. Of all the chemicals that had been released into the air. Of how he would be unconscious in a few minutes without the mask.

But then his thoughts traveled to Trip and Selak. They had been in their cell, or wherever, for nearly ten minutes with a constant stream of the chemicals in the air. They would be unconscious by now- that would mean carrying them back to the transport site. It would also mean they'd need Phlox there to help them, just incase something went wrong.

But, they'd need to get them first…

-----Enterprise, Transporter Room-----

"What's wrong? Can you fix it?" Archer asked impatiently, wanting to know in that instant and to get his people out of there. This new situation wasn't a good thing, not by far. They needed the transporters for this to work.

"I don't know, sir. It's not the transporter. There's nothing for me to fix, sir. It's the force-shield."

Archer looked at the transporter chief- an Ensign, one of the newer arrivals before their mission to the Expanse. Looking at him now, Archer could see that he was only a boy, probably not that long out of the Academy. His curly blonde hair hung just above his fear-filled eyes. Archer's brow creased: was he afraid of him? Of Archer for his wrath, or that he couldn't return the rest of his crew?

Archer couldn't tell- or merely didn't want to know. He looked away, sighing. "Keep working on it."

"Yes, sir."

Archer nodded at the new tone in his voice, he seemed to realize that the Captain was only being snappy because of the stress he seemed to have been under. The young man looked away, absorbed by his work before the Captain even left.

-----Location: Unknown-----

The buzz of activity around him caught his attention. Selak focused in on the voices, on the sounds. He could faintly make out a voice- a familiar voice- saying something about finding some… something.

Finding him?

Selak's mind didn't bother to dwell on the thought long at all, his mind preoccupied with opening his eyes. He wanted to see what was going on, to see what… who… was there.

But he found that he was too weak to open them. That his heart was near stopping, that much he could tell. He didn't have the energy to move; he was barely staying as conscious as it was.

His head was moved. Someone was touching him. Something was on his face. But, again, he couldn't open his eyes to look, to see what it was. To feel the object.

For a moment, he felt like he couldn't breathe, his diaphragm having to strain to force air through and into his lungs. But something was different… the taste- was there a taste to air?- was less sweet. Something was different about it.

Selak wanted to struggle to take it off, his mind fearing for a moment that whatever was on his face was starving him of oxygen or something. That it was filtering out air… or that it was feeding him something equally deadly.

But then he relaxed. It was then that he realized it was the sweeter thing in the air that had knocked him out, that had been the cause of his semi-consciousness. He focused again on his breathing, taking deeper and deeper breaths.

A new burning hit his lungs; perhaps purging them of the sweet air. Cleaning his systems.

Soon he found that he was able to open his eyes, having the strength to move limited muscles. He looked around, finding that his limp body was now being supported by two people- he had never even felt them lift him off the floor.

His ears could faintly hear the signs that someone was behind him. The Commander? He had been in the room with him. Had these people helped him as well? Where were they taking them…

He stopped, trying hard to remember where they were going. Who these people were. He couldn't remember. He knew they were familiar, and that they couldn't be the people who had put them in the room… but who were they?

His mind was too sluggish to remember, to think… to push back so far. It all seemed so long ago… everything was so long ago…

Malcolm walked awkwardly with the Commander's arm around his neck. His weight throwing him off balance, only the fact that Anthony was supporting him on the other side kept him from collapsing.

But, as they continued down the corridor, Malcolm found that he might well do that any way. Even though he knew it was because of the extra strain of the filter, he felt as if he were barely getting any air. As of a few minutes ago, he had begun to feel light headed, knowing that, most likely, it was all in his head. Just the hypochondriac in him.

He moaned under his breath, remembering just as they turned the last corner that they would have to pull the Commander up a flight of stairs, no turbolift leading to the lower level that they were currently on. Looking in disgust at the stairs, he tried hard not the snicker, remembering that it was the cost of his discomfort over two officers' deaths.

Slowly, taking one stair after another, Malcolm and Anthony managed to get the Commander up the stairs as they followed a few stairs behind Hayes and Eveleen.

Once they reached the top, Malcolm was starting to get the impression that it wasn't just his mind that was making him feel like he couldn't breathe. He was about to suggest a moment of rest, to set down the two and see how they were doing, but he never got the chance.

Reed looked up at Hayes, surprised by the chirping of his communicator. Carefully using his other hand- which was of course the wrong one to get into that pocket- he unzipped and pulled out his communicator. Malcolm flicked it opened, made difficult because of his clumsy left hand.

"Reed here."

_"Lieutenant-"_

"Who is this?"

_"Ensign Valiente, sir."_

"I thought you had already beamed aboard."

_"No, sir. We lost contact with the _Enterprise_ shortly after you beamed down."_

"That was nearly thirty minutes ago."

_"I know that, sir. But we couldn't contact you after you had entered the lower level."_

Malcolm looked up at Hayes, not sure if he should sigh in frustration or worry. "Where are you now, Ensign?"

_"The facility's shuttle bay, sir. We found Shuttle Pod One, sir."_

Malcolm nodded, not sure why since he knew that the man couldn't see him. "Very well. Have it ready to leave the minute we get there."

_"Yes, sir. Do you know how to get here, sir?"_

"No." Hayes almost smirked at his tone, almost bashful- ashamed, perhaps- that he wasn't as omnipotent as tried to be.

_"Go straight, then to your right when you can't go any further. Keep going straight until you come to your second left, turn there. You'll see where to go from there."_

"We…" Reed paused, suddenly out of breath. Ignoring the look he got from the other three, he continued, "We'll be there in a few minutes. Reed out."

He flicked the object closed, struggling to get it into his pocket. "I do hope you were paying attention to the directions."

"I'm afraid I'm terrible with such things," Hayes joked.

"Better hope you're not."

-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility, Shuttle Bay-----

Ensign Valiente hit the last sequence. The shuttle warmed up and ready to go, now all that they needed was the other six.

He turned, his eyes quickly looking over the pod. It was hardly built to comfortably hold nine people, but it had the ability to hold much more. At least the trip wouldn't be longer than a half an hour.

He sighed; the mission not going as planned. But, at least, this got him out of a second trip through the transporter. That was always a plus in his book… after that first time through, he still couldn't get over the feeling that something was wrong or that something hadn't been put back correctly.

He spun his chair back around, looking down at the controls. He may not have been a very experienced pilot, or very skilled one, but in addition to his engineering classes, he had learned to fly a shuttle from its landing pad to an orbiting ship. It really wasn't that difficult… of course that had been almost a year since his last time in the pilot's chair.

Skimming over all the controls, he familiarized himself with the basics, hoping that autopilot would do most of the work. He could get them out of there at least, what else was needed he feared that he didn't really remember.

With that thought, all he could thing about was, 'This could be one interesting trip…'

-----Enterprise, Bridge-----

"Captain."

Archer looked over at T'Pol, the Vulcan perched comfortably in her chair as he walked in. He stepped closer to her station; after three years with her, he knew that look. She had something important to tell him, something he would want to hear.

"Yes, T'Pol?"

Her eyebrow arched at his curt tone, a tone she had learned meant he was either annoyed or tired- most likely both considering the circumstances. But she nodded anyway, knowing that he did not intentionally mean to be rude- another of the many annoying yet curious things about humans.

"It appears that, as soon as Ensign Valiente released the virus, a second forceshild was engaged. This one appears to cover the entire facility."

"Is it the same thing as the one covering the Lower Levels?"

"Yes, identical. It will allow for something- or someone- to pass through it either way, but it will prevent either our sensors or the gas through."

"Pretty nifty," Archer commented, looking out the view screen. "It's probably to contain leaks."

"Captain?" T'Pol's emotionless voice hit his ears.

"Nothing, T'Pol. I guess this means we just sit and wait, and hope that they find some way out." The Captain sighed, his eyes still on the viewscreen. The next half an hour or so would be a long wait… a very long wait.

-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility-----

Malcolm's breathing was steadily growing more strained as they went. He could feel his focus slipping away, his head hurting more and more as time went on. He couldn't help but feel like he was going to fall at anytime.

His lungs felt like they were on fire, his heart being wretched from his chest. It was an awfully painful feeling. His instincts kept telling him to stop, to drop to the ground. He even considered ripping off his mask, for some reason thinking that it would allow him to breathe easier.

He could hear Anthony's breathing get louder as they went, he could imagine that the MACO felt the same way. The burning lungs, the searing sensation… the pain in his chest… dizziness. He even felt him slip once or twice as they walked, almost succumbing to the feeling.

Malcolm looked to his left, counting the number of doors they past. He had just hit two- somehow that seemed wrong- when they saw a turn. The first turn. They would have to continue down the hall until the second turn.

Malcolm continued to look at the wall. A second door came and past, again the number seemed wrong. And then a third and a forth… a fifth… then a third. No, no there had been more. There had been…

Malcolm's thought trailed off, he couldn't remember how many there had been. All he could remember was that it hurt to breathe. That it hurt to move his legs, but he did any way. He stepped forward, forcing himself to keep going.

Just ahead, he saw a second turn- it was the second, right? His eyes set on the next door, the tenth. No, third. No…

He stopped trying to count. It wasn't worth the energy. Turning his head away, he focused on the opening, the turn- the last turn- that would take them to the shuttle bay. They were almost there, almost home… just a few more steps…

Malcolm suddenly felt the weight of Trip's body force him down, the event happening so fast he had no idea what happened. He landed flat on his face, not able to move quick enough to put his arm out to blunt the impact.

"Lieutenant? Anthony? You alright?"

Malcolm heard Hayes's voice, he too was having trouble breathing. "Fine," Malcolm grunted, struggling to push himself up. Anthony slowly got off the ground, a large red spot on his face indicated where he had hit when he feel. His eyes were only half opened, his movements sluggish. Malcolm could only guess that he had tripped and pulled the two down with him.

Carefully they picked Trip back up, again moving in synchrony to get them to the shuttle. Only a few more meters, they could make it.

Malcolm turned the corner, and immediately stopped, almost bringing the three down again. He had expected another corridor or something, not… this.

There in front of him was a huge shuttle bay, nearly two kilometers in width and three in length. And there, several meters away, was the shuttle.

Malcolm started walking again, grateful to see that the three on the other team were exiting the shuttle and running to met them. Malcolm allowed one of the MACOs to take his place, walking next to them to the shuttle.

He looked up at Selak, noticing absently that he was walking with the help of the second MACO. He hadn't really paid attention to the Vulcan, he never noticed that he had woken up. Apparently he had a better resistance to the gas than Commander Tucker had.

Malcolm pulled himself into the shuttle pod, plopping down in one of the chairs. He closed his eyes, too tired to think about anything else but sleep, though he didn't quiet let himself slip away just yet.

He felt the engines fire up, the shuttle lifting off the ground…

-----Enterprise, Bridge-----

It had been close to an hour since they had been sent down. The effects would be starting to fade on the Xindi and Delert's people, but that also meant that his people would start to succumb to the gas, the left over particles would slip through their masks and start knocking them unconscious as well. If they couldn't find away to escape or hide, they would all become prisoners of the Xindi.

Archer looked up from his PADD- one he wasn't really reading- when he heard his Comm. Officer's "Captain!" His eyes first went to her, while annoyed at being interrupted in his musing he was curious enough to ask what it was.

But she wasn't looking in his direction. Instead, her eyes were focused on the view screen, starring excitedly, while suspiciously, at something there. Archer, too, looked, wanting to know what had grabbed his entire bridge's attention.

And there it was… Shuttle Pod One. Trip and Selak had used it to get down to the surface. Was that them returning safely to the ship? Did Malcolm remember they had never brought it on board and was using it when they found that they couldn't return by transporter? Had he found the other three members of the first away team? Were the away teams still down there, only Trip and Selak on the ship? Had they missed something? Had Delert really had nothing more to hide than Xindi soldiers?

Or was this whole image a ploy? Had the away team not succeeded in their mission? Had they all been captured because the transporter malfunctioned? Did-

Archer's silent fears and rambles were cut short when the comm. chirped; the shuttle pod was hailing them. Archer didn't need Hoshi to tell him, but she was just doing her job. He nodded to her as he stood, telling the Asian woman to open the frequency. Soon, he would find answers to his questions.

On the screen- thankfully- was Malcolm and Ensign Valiente, the Ensign flying the pod as he tried to ignore the tactical officer leaning over his shoulder.

"Malcolm?" Archer asked, his unspoken question not lost upon the British man.

"We got them, sir. But Trip's in pretty bad condition."

"Bring him to Sickbay as soon as you dock. Good job."

Malcolm's curt nod was the last Archer saw before the view screen went black, replaced by the image of the shuttle growing closer.

The Captain sighed, he had all his people back once again. At least they had managed to complete one of their missions, now came the harder one. Now they would continue their mission to save Earth… to save all of them.

-----Shuttle Pod-----

Selak sat next to Malcolm on the bench. The British man looked about ready to pass out, as did Hayes and the two MACOs across from him. Selak, on the other hand, was slowly becoming less and less disoriented.

With the oxygen in the shuttle at one hundred percent, their lungs were quickly filling with the much needed supplement, their bodies able to expel the foreign agent. It seemed to help, at least some. But it was Trip that still worried the young officer…

He hadn't woken at all, not while being carried- like Selak had- and not since they entered the Shuttle. It seemed that only his fever had gone down some, though his trembling was getting worse.

Selak looked out the view port, having to turn awkwardly to see. They were closing in on _Enterprise_, in a moment they would be able to dock. After that, Trip would be brought to Sickbay, not unlike the rest of the away team, to be helped. Soon, they would get there and he would be helped.

But not Selak… he couldn't risk it. He could easily slip out… at least he hoped that he could. Claiming that he was fine and having the doctor believe him were two very different things, two things that had to happen. He just hoped the doctor was gullible enough when bombarded with all of these cases that he would let the Vulcan leave.

He hoped…

-----Enterprise, Sickbay-----

"Get him on the bed!" Phlox ordered as soon as he saw his friend being carried into the room. Valiente and White didn't stop to answer as they helped Trip inside, one under each arm as support.

"What happened to him?" Phlox questioned as the two settled him on the bed, the rest of the away team shuffling into the room.

"He was like this when we got there."

Selak looked at Malcom, annoyed at his waste of time, before jumping in with, "He has been exhibiting withdraw symptoms for nearly twenty hours."

"Withdraw from what?" Phlox's question came out without so much as a glance in Selak's way, his focus completely on his patient.

"I do not know. He was taken away for… an hour at most. I do not know what they did to him."

"I'll have to try to detoxify his body quickly before anymore damage is done."

Selak stepped back, watching the scene play out in front of him. In his daze, he barely heard the murmur of the doctor advising himself. Detoxification…

Watching Phlox, the young Vulcan couldn't help but wonder what had gone on when he had been unconscious… when he had been in a similar situation as the Commander. The doctor rushing to heal his body, to help his battered body… to save his life.

"What happened?" Archer's voice boomed as he entered the chaos.

"The Xindi injected him with large doses of some kind of drug, perhaps hallucinogen. He's starting to withdraw from the substance," Phlox reported, holding down Trip as the Commander tried to move away.

"Lieutenant!" Phlox ordered, Trip's thrashing growing. Both Malcom and Selak moved to his side, each holding down the squirming Commander as Phlox went about his job.

"How long has he been like this?" Archer inquired, stepping farther into the room to better see the scene.

"Do you mean delusional?"

"Yes."

"They took him approximately twenty hours ago, ever since then he's been like this. Only conscious for short periods of time," Selak explained, finding no problem in speaking while he held down Trip.

But Phlox disregarded the conversation going on around him, quickly putting a cylinder into the hypospray. He never even flinched when the hissing on the hypo reached his ears. Almost immediately, the Commander slipped into unconsciousness, his body no longer resisting against his friends.

"Is going to be alright?"

The doctor looked up at Archer, not sure if his concern was any longer directed towards his long time friend or his need for a chief engineer. "He will survive but his withdraw will be extremely painful."

Archer nodded, ordering, "Tell me when he wakes up. And Selak, I want to know everything that happened in the morning."

"Aye, sir."

Without second glance, he walked away, most likely heading for the bridge.

"What about you? Are you hurt?" Malcom asked, the concern finally able to be relaxed off of Trip, his condition stable.

"I am uninjuried."

"Are you sure?" Phlox persisted.

"Yes. If I may, I wish to retire to my quarters."

Phlox nodded at the request. "Of course."

-----Enterprise, Selak's Quarters-----

Selak opened the door to his quarters, his feet moving on autopilot as his mind wandered, too tired to be bothered with thinking. Walking past his meditation candles, he headed straight for his bed, not in the mood to try and tame his exhausted mind.

Selak's eyes closed, his head sinking very little on the firm pillow, his body finally relaxing. His mind calmed, his muscles loosened from their constantly ready positions. The adrenaline in his system was nearly drained, his heart finally slowing to normal.

But then he sighed, knowing that there was something he had to do first. With a grunt of effort, he put his feet back on the ground, forcing himself to sit up. He bent over, his left hand finding and pulling out a small case from under his bed. Setting it next to him, he opened it, pulling out a cylinder device. Pushing a button, he nodded in satisfaction at the red light on his palm.

Gingerly, he lifted his right hand and undid the straps on his jacket- two under his left arm and two on the left side of his chest. Carefully, as to not aggravate the pain in his shoulder, he shook out his left arm, pulling the jacket off the rest of the way. With his chest bare, Selak was easily able to see the dark green on his collar bone. Slowly running the device over the wound, the green disappeared, leaving nothing but healthy skin.

Selak's eyelids drooped, his movements sluggish as he went to put the device away. After that he removed a hypospray, his mind taking a moment to remember its use. After a few minutes, he opened a small compartment on the top, removing one of the cylinder vials. Mechanically, he put the vial into the cylinder, before injecting the blue liquid into the vein on his wrist, the slight sting never reaching his neurons- perhaps from exhaustion or merely from being accustom to the feeling, Selak didn't bother to try and figure it out.

After putting the instrument back, Selak groaned, putting the case back where it had been. Falling back onto his bed, his eyes slipped closed. He was able to relax more, the pain in his shoulder and head gone. At least he had that- that small bliss to comfort him.

Tomorrow, after some rest, he would check up on the Commander, that would give him an excuse to be there, to look around for what he needed. But that was tomorrow… he still had all night before he had to thinking about that.

-----Enterprise, Sickbay-----

"Well, good morning, Lieutenant," Phlox said happily to Selak as he walked through the door. The Vulcan resisted the urge to respond with Human platitudes as he knew many of the crew might.

Instead, he walked farther into the starship's hospital, asking, "How is the Commander this morning?"

"He's doing much better," Phlox reported, looking over at the closed curtain, Selak assuming that was were he was.

"And… his withdraw?"

"Well, I was able to purge the substance from his body while he was sedated but… there is little I can do for the physiological part of the withdraw. Unfortunately it might be sometime before he'll be fully better."

"Do you know when he'll be able to return to duty?" Selak asked, in hopes that the doctor would assume he was trying to get a frame of reference of when he'd be better.

But, by the look on Phlox's face, he was torn between that thought and another. One would assume that he was thinking that, as a Vulcan, the man only wanted to know when he could work.

"Well," Phlox finally said, "A week at most. But, we'll just have to see how he responds."

Selak nodded as he followed the doctor's path as he fed his animals- if one could call half of them that. The Vulcan tried hard not to cringe at the sight of the food the Denobulan was giving to them… or the smell of it.

Selak stopped at the counter- Phlox's workspace- even as the doctor continued on. "Is this what you used to free us?" Selak inquired of the doctor as he picked up a cylindrical container and looked it over. His eyes caught the label and knew immediately that it was.

"Yes. Quite effective, huh?"

"It did appear to help in the rescue of both the Commander and I," he replied, looking over at the Commander's space, surrounded by medical devices to aid him in his recovery.

The Vulcan turned his head, looking at the slightly disgusted look on the doctor's face, just as he had heard, though subtly, in his voice. "You do not agree with the idea of it, do you? What, exactly, does it do? I… was unconscious through most of my experience."

"It… it slows the heart. Only enough to knock them unconscious with the amount we used but-"

"If used to a larger degree it could easily stop the heart completely," Selak determined. "How were you able to create it so quickly?"

"I did some preliminary research some time ago; it never went much further than that, but I had enough to synthesize this," Phlox explained, the words almost lost upon Selak as his mind went back to an old memory.

_A pale, young girl of fifteen starred up at him from her place on the ground. Her gray eyes shouted with pain and grief; anger directed towards him. In her arms, she cradled a boy of barely four, no longer crying but gasping for breath._

_He looked around, ignoring the horrid sound his feet made as they walked through the mud and water. People were everywhere- some dead, others dying. They lined the ground and walkways and streets. _

_Children's screams and pained moans rang in his ears. _

_Her gray eyes starred at him; tears in her pained eyes. _

_A young man starred up at him. His blue eyes blank, devoid of the life that used to shine in the twenty year old. Dry blood crept out of the corner of his mouth; his body and face rotting in the baking sun. _

_His parents sputtered; blood coming from their mouths. Next to them was the young girl; accusing him, starring at him, silently pleading with him to help. _

"Why do you not destroy it?" Selak asked. Phlox looked back at him. He had thought, after the long stretch of silence, that the Vulcan had lost interest. Apparently not…

"I had asked the Captain about it but he seems to think that we might be able to use it against the Xindi."

Selak nodded, a long analyzed question resurfacing in his mind. "Why do Humans… any species… seek to harm or humiliate others that did something to them? Why seek revenge for anything?"

Phlox gazed at the Vulcan. By Human standards, he seemed almost twenty-four, twenty-five. At least double as a Vulcan. But… but in his eyes he seemed more like an innocent child, one with pain burning at his core. Yet, at the same time, an old man far beyond his time- a wise, old man who had seen much.

The doctor shook his head, sadly. "I don't know why, Selak. I just know that they do, for whatever reason they may have. For many, I would think, it makes them feel better if they had to suffer, so should the person who caused the pain. Or, at least someone should as well. Why do you ask?"

Selak looked back at the metallic cylinder, his eyes glazing over in memory. Remembering the heart wrenching moments of discovery… of the message he received in the middle of the night. Of the mental image of what it must have been like… of what all those people had gone through when many of them didn't deserve it.

Selak's mind jumped back to the present, just in time to force back his emotions bubbling extremely close to the surface. "No reason, doctor. None at all." /-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

**__**

Well, there you have it, the end of this chapter. This time I promise you will have another chapter by next Wednesday. I swear!

Please R/R and I will get back to ya'll.


	4. For Pain and Revelations

Author's Note: Hi everyone. It's Wednesday, right? cringes

I know it's not. But, let me tell you a funny story at it. You see, I had this friend- let's call him Phil. One day, Phil came home from tennis practice and saw that no one was on the computer. So, he jumped on it and pulled up the next chapter to the story he had been posting at He fixed it up, gave it an A/N and summary and title and whatever. Then, when he clicked on the internet icon, he found, to his horror that it didn't work!

Anyway, enough about Phil's problems, let's talk about mine. I'm sorry to all of yous who got on expecting an update and didn't get it. But, I'm glad to see that you're so loyal that you kept checking and found it today.  
As always, I hope you like it and please R/R to tell me what you thought about the whole thing. Thanks!

Summary: As Trip fights to overcome his addition, Selak's agenda is revealed. But is it what he says?

**__**

**Through Fire:** **For Pain and Revelations**  
  
-----Enterprise, Engineering-----

Trip's hands trembled, almost making him drop his hypospanner. Nausea washed over him in incessant waves. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, trying to focus on his work.

Work… that was he did for the past three days, it seemed. But it kept his mind occupied. Kept it from wondering back to…

The sound of the door opening hit his ears, making Trip look at the new comer. He gave a weak smile, watching the Vulcan enter and regard him curiously. Her eyes took in his haggard appearance and quickly- easily- deduced that he had not been sleeping lately. In truth, he had hardly slept at all since… well, since before he had been abducted.

"Commander, why are you working? It is late, you should be in bed," T'Pol told him, bending down to look the man in the eye. But he continued to work even through her warning, mumbling something about wanting to get it done.

"Commander, I will finish this for you. You should sleep."

"I'm fine," Trip insisted, his hands trembling violently a stronger wave of nausea hit him.

"You are shaking-"

"I'm fine!" He interjected his irrational mood swing not fazing her.

"You are not 'fine'," she replied, taking his warm hands in hers. They continued to shake, helped only by the firm hold T'Pol had. "You should be resting, Commander. Someone else can do this for you."

"I should-"

"Someone else can do this," she repeated, more firmly. His blue eyes looked up into her brown ones, his pain and fear shinning in them, touching T'Pol in a way she would never understand.

Trip's head nodded, emotionlessly. He was drained- emotionally, physically, and mentally. He just needed a break and T'Pol intended to give him one.

Walking the engineer back to his quarters, T'Pol walked in with him, escorting him to his bed. She had rarely entered him room, finding it unnecessary or inappropriate, but found herself seeing that it reflected him well. There was an organized chaos to the room; something its owner was in more ways than one.

"Could ya hand me my shorts, right there?" He asked, his voice reflecting his exhaustion. Without responded, T'Pol picked up his clothing and set them on the edge of the bed while he pulled off his boots.

She watched him for a moment, determined to stay until she was sure that he was asleep. It was in that moment, as she waited for him to dress, that she noticed his sent throughout the room. It was not something she usually missed but, perhaps, she had merely grown used to humans'- or Trip's- scent and merely ignored it.

She watched as he stood, stripping from his uniform. Looking away to afford him as much privacy as she could, his soft, tired chuckle caught her attention. "Ya don't hafta look away. It's not like ya haven't seen me nude before."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow, looking back at his half-clad body. In the few seconds she had looked away, he had already donned on his shorts, leaving his upper body still uncovered. That was nothing new to her; after months of neropressure sections it was almost becoming second nature to see his bare chest every few nights.

"Commander, have you slept at all in the past few days?" She inquired, having noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

"Not really," he admitted, sheepishly looking away from her.

"I could…"

"Neropressure sounds good," he interrupted her, as if reading her mind. Nodding sluggishly, Trip laid down on his back, getting comfortably with his pillow tucked underneath his head.

T'Pol watched him, a strange, unidentified feeling approaching the surface. After years of practice, she merely pushed it down without second thought. Approaching the bed, she warmed her hands slightly, but quickly found that it had been unnecessary.

"Commander, your temperature appears several degrees higher than normal," she told him, placing her fingers on the correct places on his burning skin.

"Tell me somethin' I don't know," he complained, a soft moan escaping his lips as he felt the pleasant effects of the neropressure. T'Pol just arced an eyebrow, continuing with her job.

It took only a few minutes before Trip had relaxed into sleep. She stayed there a few moments longer; watching the pain slip away from his features as his subconscious took hold. He seemed so much more peaceful in sleep than he had awake in the past few days.

She knew the memories of what had happened to him and the pain of his withdraw were the causes, but she didn't have a clue as to what had happened. She knew that asking the sleeping man in front of her was out of the question; he definably wouldn't want to speak about it. But, perhaps, she might be able to ask Selak what he knew…

-----Enterprise, Sickbay-----

Slipping into the Infirmary without a sound, the young Vulcan walked across the metal floor. With the crew asleep, the probability of them coming near the medical ward was slim. But, as he knew, Phlox slept within those walls, as did his pet collection. Any wrong moment or noise could wake any number of them.

But his training had taught him well in the art of "breaking and entering", along with theft and escape. He was an old pro but barely put his skills to use. Now it was a matter of life and death for millions- perhaps, billions- if he didn't.

Sneaking further into the room, he walked soundlessly to the counter he had seen the cylinder earlier that day. His eyes scanned the area, but it wasn't there. Raking his brain, he recalled hearing Phlox open one of the cupboards when he had left.

On a whim, he opened the first and scanned the contents. Nothing. Moving onto the others, it wasn't until the third he opened that he found what he wanted. Carefully, the Vulcan lifted it out and away from the other items in its way.

Releasing a small sigh, he closed the door. Looking down at his prize, he gave a satisfied nod and left the room. His next step was to erase its existence from the computers, making sure that it wouldn't be remade or left on record. He doubted Phlox would agree to remake it from scratch, at least he hoped not.

-----Enterprise, Mess Hall-----

"How are you feeling, today, Commander?" Selak inquired, setting down his tray- with only salad and a cup of tea on it- and seated himself across from Trip.

"Better." Selak raised an eyebrow at hearing his rested voice and noticing that the circles under his eyes weren't as pronounced as they had been before.

"That is good to hear. Were you able to sleep through the night?"

"Why is it that everyone knows I don't sleep well?" He asked, suddenly agitated. His frustration only growing as he dropped his fork on the ground during his outburst. Sighing and taking a deep breath, he muttered an apology.

Selak just sat there, watching in anticipation for his next mood swing. "Calm yourself, Commander. I merely noticed that you seemed more relaxed than our last encounter."

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean t' snap at you. I've just been… a little edgy, that's all," he said, trying to justify his earlier actions.

"There is no reason to explain, I am quite familiar with drug withdrawal. Sudden shifts in emotions are quite common," he told him, his voice cool but the hidden emotions in his eyes telling a different, more emotional, story that his words did not.

"Yeah… part of yer whole psychology thing?" Trip asked, eating his breakfast with a new utensil Selak had offered him. Selak merely raised an eyebrow, not verbally answering his question. Perhaps it had been a mistake to explain to Trip how he held a degree in alien psychology.

"How 'bout you? How've you been doin'?" Trip asked, concern flashing in his eyes for his fellow sufferer.

"I am unaffected by anything that happened there." Selak's eyes were downcast, starring intensely at his food but not taking a bit of it.

"Now that's bullshit," Trip told him, his voice a wealth of untamed, human emotions. "Come on, I saw the look in yer eyes when ya told me 'bout… past experiences. That was difficult for you to be there. To even tell me that stuff."

"It was easier to tell someone about my experiences than suffer simply replaying them in my mind." Trip had to agree with that logic, no matter how unVulcan it sounded.

"I guess. I'll see ya later, then."

"You are not working, are you?" The concern that had leaked into Selak's controlled voice touched the man. During their imprisonment, it was obvious some kind of bond had formed between them and it seemed to be affecting the Vulcan's emotionless façade.

"Nah. I have an appointment with the Doc." Selak nodded, feeling his emotions come back under his strict control once the wave of relief had washed over him.

"Then I shall see you at a later time." He watched Trip go, wobbly walking toward the door. Selak sighed. An old memory resurfacing, one he'd rather not remember. Closing his eyes, the details came back to him with more clarity than ever before…

_Everything was a blur… images were merely mixed and double vision plagued him. Reality was warped to him; even his Vulcan mind had trouble comprehending what was happening around him. The forms of people long since dead showed themselves to him, people he knew weren't there appeared in front of him. _

_It just seemed so real… _

_Seemed so much better than what reality was… _

_It was so much better… he never wanted it to end… ****_

He knew how it felt to have the promise of paradise fill you for a short time only to have it suddenly turn to hell. And then all that suddenly being ripped away and pulled back into reality.

He was already beginning to tire of his masquerade. Of the power he wielded in his hands. With ease he could change things; adjust moments as he pleased. He already had… and he still would. But that was later… and what he was doing was an exact science. Something that required patients- something he was quickly losing.

He just wanted to go home…

But more than that, he wanted to escape from what others knew as "life"…

-----Enterprise, Bridge-----

"Captain!" Doctor Phlox called out as he stepped off the turbolift, relieved to find that the man he wanted was right there. "Captain, I need to talk to you," he told him in a hushed voice as he approached Archer, the Captain turning away from the Ensign who had just handed him a PADD.

"This way," he said, leading him into his Ready Room. "Yes, Doctor? What is it?"

Archer said down at his desk, looking up at the Denobulan doctor. It was easy to notice that his normally jovial manner had disappeared and was replaced by one much more anxious.

"When I was feeding my animals this morning, I noticed that the gas was missing."

"The gas? The one you made to free Trip and Selak?" This had definably caught the Captain's attention, causing his to sit up straighter in his desk.

"Yes."

"And it's missing?"

"Yes, Captain," the Doctor sighed. Hadn't he already said that? How could this man be a captain if he couldn't catch onto such easy matters?

"How could this happen? Could you have miss placed it?"

"I don't think so, Captain. I put it away after Lieutenant Valiente brought it back."

"You don't think someone could have stolen it, do you?" By then, Archer was standing, pacing in fact, as he tried to figure the matter out. How could such a dangerous gas have gone missing? Maybe he should have just let the doctor dispose of it, he could always make more if it were necessary.

"I don't see why anyone would want it, but that's the only thing I can think of."

"Very well. I'll have Malcolm run scans to try and locate it. In the mean time, would you place look over Sickbay. I'd rather find out that it had been miss placed over stolen."

"Of course, Captain. And, one more thing."

"What is it?" He said, still focused on the gas.

"After seeing this, I checked my medical logs. There's absolutely no trace of it in the system. Not of any of the away team being treated for exposure to it, not of it's creation or usage. Or even my notes on it. All of it was erased. And rather well; I can't track down any of it."

"Well, it appears someone doesn't want us to have this."

"It would seem so, sir." With that, the doctor left, having his own duties- and search- to perform. Archer just sighed, plopping himself down in his chair. Who would do this?

-----Enterprise, Selak's Quarters-----

"Wait, wait, wait! I can't just leave, not now. Can't you just skip ahead a week or two and get me then?" Selak hissed at the viewscreen, anger and confusion shinning in his eyes as he argued with the man.

"No, it was hard enough getting a lock on you at this moment. You accomplished half of your mission, that will have to do," the human told him.

"Half? Have to do? What, you aren't sending me back?"

"I'm afraid we can't. I only have authorization to retrieve you. That's it," he explained, not overly apologetic.

"But… I'm not ready. I'll need at least two days to adjust the program. You can't pull me out now," Selak complained.

"We don't have the time or the lock. It has to be now."

"But… what are they going to think. They all will be put up for insanity charges when they report back to Starfleet saying that they lost the other Vulcan," Selak remarked, standing in frustration.

"That's just something we can't avoid. We're pulling you back now."

Taking a deep breath, he sat back down, looking at the balding man in the small screen. "Fine. Just give me a mi-"

-----Enterprise, Archer's Quarters, A Day and a Half Later-----

"Captain's Personal Log: January 3, 2154.

"So far our search for Phlox's missing gas has turned up nothing. It's definably not in Sickbay- learned after an extensive search. Nothing has turned up, either, in our search of the ship.

"In addition to this, we discovered, after Lieutenant Selak failed to report to duty, that he is missing. After another search for him, it was discovered that he is not on board the ship. I can't help but to think that his disappearance had something to do with the missing gas from Sickbay.

"But, if he did steal it, what would he need with it? And how did he leave? All shuttles are accounted for, no one beamed off the ship, and no other ships have been in the area in the past seventy-two hours. Even the search of Selak's quarters have proven fruitless.

"This is, by far, one of the most intriguing mysteries _Enterprise_ has seen yet. Computer, end log."

With a sigh, Archer looked down at his long time friend, lounging on his bed. "So, what do you think, Porthos?" The dog just gave a soft whine, not moving from his spot. "Yeah, that's all I got so far, too. But I'm confident we'll find him and the gas… at least I really hope we do. Otherwise the Vulcan's will have my ass."

Archer rubbed his face with his hand, running it through his hair before using it to shut down the computer. "Come on, boy. Let's get some rest, it's going to be a long day tomorrow."

-----Enterprise, T'Pol's Quarters-----

T'Pol sat comfortably on her mediation mat, starring blankly into the flame. For two hours she had attempted to achieve a state of mediation to properly clear her mind, but it seemed that her mind was just too "noisy" to do so.

She found that her mind kept retreating back to Commander Tucker. Thinking about how he was doing and feeling; how he was adjusting to his withdraw. He seemed overly anxious lately, far more prone to emotional shifts. Though he was getting better, he still had lapses of motor function and emotional control. Many times T'Pol had been a witness to them.

He also seemed to be having trouble sleeping again, perhaps that was even some of the fault of his lapses. She could only imagine the nightmares he was now plagued with; thoughts and dreams of his imprisonment and forced addition. It was something she would have been more than willing to help with.

The buzzing of her door chime brought T'Pol out of her musing. She stood, curious as to who would be at her door at such a late hour.

"Commander?" She asked once she saw the occupant outside her door.

"Sorry, I didn't mean t' interrupt-"

"No, you are not. Is there something you need?"

"Um, well, I know that it's not the day for it… it's just that… well I can't sleep and-" he stuttered out, stopping only when he saw that her eyebrow had risen.

"You came for neuropressure."

"If it ain't too much of a bother." She nodded, stepping aside and allowing him in. At the sight of her meditation mat and lit candle, he asked, "Were ya meditating?"

"I had just completed my meditation for this evening," she lied, not wishing to speak about it further, though slightly disturbed at how easily such a fib came to her. Without remaining on the thought for more than a moment, she gestured for him to sit down on the pad already laid out.

"Oh," Trip said simply, kneeling down as she had said.

Trip looked over at the candle she had burning through every session. He remembered scolding her years ago when he first saw candles in her quarters- that seemed like so long ago now, a different lifetime almost.

"How have you been feeling, besides the insomnia?"

"Not bad. Can we not talk about that?"

"As you wish. Please, remove your shirt." Though T'Pol was hardly scared by Trip's agitation, she wasn't about to test his control and provoke him- she had already been on the receiving end of his frustrations many times in the past few days.

With his shirt off and politely tossed to the side, T'Pol settled herself closer, pressing her hands against his bare chest. Pressing on various pressurepoints, she could feel the practice rhythm of his breathing- the steady rise and fall, almost hypnotic as see watched.

"So," Trip sighed, trying to think of some way to break the deafening silence- at least talking about his "condition" they would say something, he just wasn't in the mood to go over such things again and again, Phlox was enough.

"How's everything goin' with the search for Selak and the gas?"

"Not well. Two days of searching have provided nothing. It would appear that whomever took the gas destroyed it," T'Pol told him, still focused on his bare chest.

Trip nodded. It seemed likely; why else would they erase all the data if they didn't want it destroyed? Not even that was going according to plan- the engineering crew couldn't find a single word in all the files deleted. Whoever was responsible, did a great job; there was quite literally nothing left.

"Yeah, but they just couldn't "destroy" Selak. He's gotta be somewhere. Do ya think it was him? Selak? Cause, I mean… he is capable of this." Trip looked at her, seeing her glance up at him as he spoke. It was evident from her face that she didn't think a Vulcan would do so- or at least that's what she wanted to believe.

"I am uncertain. It is a possibility that he took the gas, but there seems to be no logical reason for him to do so. He is Vulcan, he does not need it for anything."

Trip nodded, sighing as he did so. "Yeah. But someone did… just wonder who."**__**

-----Enterprise, Captain's Ready Room-----

The doors to Archer's ready room slide open, the Captain conversing with his two senior most officers. He turned back around, finally seeing his desk. His words trailed off; his feet stopping at the sight of Selak sitting comfortably behind his desk.

"Selak? What are you doing in here? Where have you been?" Archer paused, finally taking in the appearance of the Vulcan. His hair had grown at least an inch, his ears almost completely covered over. A few days worth of stubble had collected on his face, just adding to his gruffly, unwashed hair and haggard looking clothing.

"What the hell happened to you?"

The Vulcan almost laughed at his surprised statement, his eyes- and that of the other two- taking in his slouched posture as he comfortably settled back in the Captain's desk chair.

Standing, he seemed to almost bounce with an air of insanity, he told them, "I was… recalled for a little while. Actually, I'm not supposed to be here. But what the hell…?"

Archer listened to the Vulcan, a concerned frown growing over his features. The more he looked at the man, the more he could have sworn that he had snapped. "Are you ok?"

"You know, Captain, that in some cultures, by my appearance, they'd think I'm fine. In others- such as your own- I must appear to be quite insane. Insane, that is another interesting word, don't you agree.

"Insane is defined as being mentally unstable or out of sane mind. Yet, you would assume from the word, that you are with_in_ sanity. In sane. In sanity. Shouldn't the word truly be… exsane. Absane. Those prefixes do you come from Latin, correct? I took that class once, rather dull if you ask me but interesting none the less, only at times of course."

The three listened on to the Vulcan's rant, surprised with his odd sense of… insanity. Archer, looking over at T'Pol and Trip, silently asked for their opinions on the matter, while hoping that the Vulcan didn't notice the exchange.

"It's alright, Captain. I'm not really insane; I just enjoy acting that way. Then, again, perhaps I am. Oh, well. But it is much more fun than serious, wouldn't agree? Although, being cooped up on this ship having to pretend to be the ever stoic Vulcan might have driven me mad." Selak laughed as he plopped back down in the Captain's chair.

"Well, go ahead. You want to know what I'm talking about. Why I came back. And so on and so forth. Go ahead, fire away. Not like I give a damn about all that secrecy and crap," he told them, finally calming some.

"Ok," Archer started, not really sure that the answers he was about to hear would have any valid point to them. "Where have you been for the past two days?"

"Two days? I thought I had miscalculated more than that. Oh well, no big deal. Actually, Captain, from my perspective I've been gone for… hmm, almost four- no, five- months." Seeing the confused looks on their faces, he said, "Time travel's a bitch, isn't it?"

"Time travel? You're from Daniels' time?" Archer asked, trying to piece together what he had heard.

"Daniels? No clue who he is."

"When are you from then?" Trip asked, stealing Archer's next question.

With a grim smile, he said, "The 29th century. All that time has to show for is a bloody long war and a couple o' new ray guns." A soft laugh escaped him, the Vulcan standing to his full height. "Not a very glamorous time, Captain."

"Is that why you have come here? To change that?" T'Pol asked, albeit skeptically.

"Ah, Sub-Commander T'Pol, hardly the believer. But yes, for the most part. To change some things, make parts better."

"Parts?"

"Can't change everything, no matter how much I'd like to. Love to just send you home and tell you to never come back into space but I know that will never happen. Not like it'd help anything," Selak mussed, turning away from his audience.

"Then what, exactly, are you here to change?"

He smiled at Archer's obvious question. "I would tell you, but then it wouldn't be half as fun."

T'Pol's eyebrow raised at the taunting retort. "Should you be telling us this? It is my understanding that the more you tell us, the more chance there is in harming the timeline."

"That's the beauty of the way we use time travel. It won't. Not really."

"Not really?" Trip inquired, slipping just that much farther into the room.

A wry smile grew, a rather interesting expression on a Vulcan. "Mind control. Or "mind manipulation", as the government calls it. One of the few true benefits of the war. How sick is that?"

"I do not understand." Selak's gaze fell upon T'Pol. He could easily see how much she was trying to forget that he was Vulcan. Oh, if she only knew…

"Using mind control, I was able to… program your minds to believe that I've been with you since the beginning. Program discussions, events, and so forth into your minds. Change the computer files so that you'd truly believe that I belong here."

"You mean, everything that we remember about you, never happened?" Trip questioned.

"Not everything. As of two months ago, anything that happened was completely real and out of my control. Before that, much is manipulated," he admitted.

"What about when you leave? Will you just erase your existence?" Archer asked, his voice trying to cover some type of hidden anger.

"No, that would not be wise. I will merely make you think that anything that passed between myself and anyone else was a different, imaginary crewman. One that never really existed. The day that I leave, he supposedly died. That's how the history books will see it. You'll never remember me once I leave. I never existed," he said spitefully, showing some type of annoyance or rage. Towards what, none of the three knew.

"Mind control? I just can't believe that Starfleet would resort to using that. Create that at all," Archer said, almost daring the Vulcan to counter him.

"The Starfleet you know now and the one I joined are two very different organizations in two very different situations. While you test out space, we're in an all out war. Mind control has played a large part in everything so far. Starfleet only uses it in extreme cases. And for interrogations- it's seen as less brutal," Selak explained, his once jumpy and spasmodic personality replaced by one much more serious.

"Mind control less brutal? I doubt that Starfleet would see it that way," Archer stated, more not wanting than truly not believing the Vulcan's tale.

"Compared to some of what our enemies have been known to do, that's rather kind, Captain. Trust me, I would much rather be at the hands of Starfleet than any of them," Selak told Archer, his tone and expression serious.

"In times of war, stories like that are often fabricated purely from rumor," T'Pol explained to him, not intentionally meaning to get him off topic.

Turning to the other Vulcan, Selak smile. "True, very true. Some of the stories I've heard are slight exaggerations, but hardly all."

"How do you know that?" She countered.

For a moment, he froze. His gaze didn't falter; another smile grew, covering over his suddenly blank expression. Glancing in Trip's direction he could have sworn that the Human understood.

"That doesn't matter. I just know. But I believe you are taking this off topic. I would bet your next question, Captain, is 'what is my mission'. Correct?" Archer's head nodded, however slightly, to tell the Vulcan to answer.

"Right. Well, it started when the war hit an all time low. No one was winning, no one was losing. Just hundreds of thousands of people were dying every week. Starfleet wanted some way to end it- a quick, swift end.

"So they got together a small team of scientists, many of them specializing in the medical science. Starfleet wanted them to create the worst and deadliest bioweapon. Wanted one with no cure, no way of stopping… In our time, scientist just… don't know how to think that way. So they looked back through the centuries. They knew that, in the past few centuries, very little that wasn't already being used would help them… so they looked as far back as Dr. Phlox's medical reports."

"What could they have possibly used that Phlox created?"

"Two things: one you know of, the other you'll find soon. The first thing they looked into was a gas agent that infiltrates the body through respiration- once in the blood stream it attacks the heart, slowing it until it stops.

"The other is a genetically enhanced virus, one that was made into an air born toxin. Once it gets into the lungs, it starts to close off the air sacs, making it harder to breathe, all the while liquidating the lungs. You die from suffocating on your own blood.

"The two are deadly enough on their own, extremely fatal when combined. I already erased all data about the first, destroyed its existence practically. Now I just have to bide my time until the second part comes along."

Selak turned away, trying hard to hold himself together. Trying to push out the imagines- both real and imagined- out of his head.

"So, you were the one to steal the gas, weren't you?"

Selak turned to faced the Captain, his face scrunching up in an uncharacteristic fashion for him as he seemed to think of some way around the accusation. "I didn't _steal_ it… per se. I more… eradicated its existence. There's a difference."

The Vulcan paused, turning away from them again. He seemed ready to go off on another rant, but before he was able, Archer cut in saying:

"I understand that it must be a horrible weapon that was created, but why destroy it? That I don't understand completely." Though, from an ethical humanitarian way, he knew why it should never be made but, from a warring government perspective, he had no idea.

"Because… it turned out to be worse than we thought. Far worse. Then our enemy got a hold of it… the war just… got a lot worse… a whole lot worse and we didn't know how else to stop it," Selak admitted.

"Then why make it in the first place."

"You don't understand, Captain. This isn't a war you're familiar with, not in the slightest. This war…" he explained, walking closer to the table. "It has no rules, no mercy. They hit us, we hit them harder. They attack, we attack them. It's just an endless cycle. One day, when Starfleet decided that they'd play god, they wanted to just wipe out our enemies, clean the slate, rather than deal with their mistakes."

The three watched the Vulcan as he flailed his arms for emphasis. They starred, almost opened mouthed, as they became more and more sucked in by the story while, at the same time, more horrified by what they heard.

Turning with Selak, they watched him walk around the table, continuing his tale of the future. "My brother was a medical doctor. He was in charge of that team. He was ordered to find some way to combine the two- to make the weapon. And he did… he found a most deadly combination of two."

"He created the worst bioweapon your era has ever seen?" T'Pol inquired, seemingly annoyed or curious by his obvious change from ritual Vulcan to an emotional one.

"Yeah, that's what they said. They… what was it?… 'Ushered in a new era for mankind. Their… creation may just bring about the end to this war'. What a load of bullshit that was. Yeah, now you can have your heart stop as you drown in your own blood- what a load of fun, we should all try it," Selak mocked, unsure why he felt so angry at T'Pol but not stopping his venting.

"We have three enemies, Captain. Only one is really a true threat to us. One was even ready to surrender to us, but we still released it on all three of them- hitting their major science colonies. It killed millions, most were innocent civilians." The news seemed to shock- and horror- his audience as the enraged Vulcan turned his back to them once more.

Just then, a curt laugh escaped his lips, the Vulcan spinning around to look back at the Captain. "And then there was my job. I was sent in; told to take whatever information I could get my hands on, whatever technology. But no…" He drawled out, walking almost like an insane man over to the Captain, paying little to no attention to those around them. "I wasn't supposed to care about the five year old dying from her slowly liquidating lungs or care about the young mother coughing up blood as she cradled her dying baby. That wasn't my job- I wasn't trained to give a damn."

Suddenly, as if realizing his unprovoked rant, he turned away, trying to force back the tears rising to the surface. Trying to push back the gruesome and vivid memories of the colony- colonies.

"They retaliated," Trip stated, something he'd almost forgotten clicking into place. Looking up at the Vulcan, his back to him, he said, "That was the _rare viral out-brake_ you told me about. That was why yer brother killed himself. He created that… thing."

Pivoting around, the Vulcan smiled a grim smile. "I told you my life sucked." Turning back, he walked up to Archer. "Tell Travis to set a course for these coordinates."

Archer looked down at the PADD Selak handed him. "Why?"

Raising an eyebrow, he told him, "Because that's where we must be."

"You do remember we're on a mission?"

"Of course. Trust me, Captain, I could hardly forget such a thing. They have something you might find useful. Something I am sure they would be willing to give for a small price."

"What would we have to give them?"

After a moment, Selak sighed, knowing he could not stare down the Captain's question. "I'll take care of it."

"The cost, Selak."

He hesitated, only a moment. "Like I said, I'll worry about that."

"Somehow, that doesn't make me feel any better."

He smiled. "The Amocku are… a complex but arrogant race. Someone who knows them could be able to… manipulate their opinions."

"Not something very becoming of a Vulcan," T'Pol commented.

Selak's grin only grew wider. "True, but that unbecoming aspect of my personality may very well be the difference between success or failure of this mission." With that, he turned, walking out, his cool outward appearance once again in-tacked.

-----Enterprise, Engineering-----

"Um, Commander, there is something I need to speak with you about." Trip looked over his shoulder to see Selak standing there, waiting politely to be addressed. He had stayed hidden for a while, avoid everyone perhaps.

"About?" Trip inquired, turning right back to his work.

"Would you like a hand?" Trip shook his head, commenting that he was fine. "Very well. Commander-"

"Just call me Trip."

"Trip?" Selak had heard the name used but still did not understand, though this was not the place nor time to ask. Sitting down next to him as he worked, Selak continued. "There's something very… very important I need to, um… discuss with you."

"What about?"

"The future, sort of. But… you can't… you can't tell anyone that I told you about it."

"Does it matter, yer just gonna wipe my mind once ya leave."

"I know, but this is different. They can't know now while it's happening nor can they know certain things later," Selak admitted, his hesitant voice catching Trip's attention.

"Just spit it out, for god's sake!"

Selak smirked, recalling a friend who often used, and made fun of, the expression. "We don't know exactly when or how or whatever that it happened- those kind of logs got lost in an accidental fire centuries ago- well, years in the future to you. Anyway, we have a rough estimate figure for the day it happened and how long-"

"Selak, you do realize that I have no idea what yer talking 'bout, right?"

"Sorry. Based on our calculations… you have… about three weeks to…"

"To what?" He urged, trying to catch Selak's eye- his project all but forgotten.

"To… to, um…" he stuttered before mumbling, "to get T'Pol pregnant."

"I'm afraid yer gonna hafta speak up," he scolded.

"To get T'Pol pregnant!"

Trip froze. Now that kind of thing in itself was weird, but T'Pol? "T'Pol?" Was the only thing that would come out of his mouth, followed later by, "Three weeks? Yer givin' me three weeks to get T'Pol, a Vulcan, pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Are you nuts?!"

"Not really."

Trip took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Okay. First off, do you know how hard it is to have a Human and a Vulcan have a kid? I mean… well, I don't really know, but that's people say."

Selak just smirked knowingly. "I do know how hard. That's why I brought this."

Before Trip had a chance to inquire what 'this' was, his arm stun, Selak having dug a needle into his arm. "Ow!"

"Commander?" The pair spun around, startled by the newest voice. Selak quickly hid the injection when he saw T'Pol standing coolly in the doorway, arching an eyebrow at the pair.

"He-hey, T'Pol."

"Sub-commander." Trip glanced at Selak, noticing how quickly his appearance went from casual to more… Vulcanish. Maybe that was just the way he was raised, to be Vulcan in Vulcan company.

Looking up at the Sub-Commander, it was easy to tell she had something to tell the Commander and him alone. That, or perhaps she was not comfortable around Selak anymore. He could understand that.

"I should be leaving, Commander, Sub-commander." With a knowing gaze, Selak arched an eyebrow, silently telling him to give it a try.

"See ya."

"What were you-"

"Nothin'. Just… ya know, guy stuff."

T'Pol's only response was the raise of an eyebrow. "I was sent here by the Captain to tell you that he will not be dinning with us tonight."

"So, just the two of us then?"

"Apparently."

"See ya at six." Trip gave her a small smile as she walked away. "Oh, god!"

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**__**

Lol. I had to stop it there… I sort of feel sorry for Trip right about there. Sort of.

Well, that was your eleven pages of 'Through Fire' for the day. I hope you liked them. If anyone has any comments, problems, insight, so on and so forth, please R/R and tell me. If not, I'll see you in a week with another chapter. Again, I'm really sorry for posting a day later than I had promised. I won't do it again. Next time, it will (hopefully) be posted promptly on Wednesday.


	5. For Truths and Consequences

Author's Note: Ah! Okay, you guys can really slap me now. I didn't mean to go bad on my word or anything, I really didn't, but with school starting and then my internet acting up again and everything, I sort of forget.

I'm really sorry! I won't promise it'll be up, but I will really try to remember Wednesday. I really, really will, so look for it but…

Well I hope you enjoy it, even if it is a few days late, and please R/R. I give you permission to yell at me if you want.

Summary: As Trip and T'Pol grows closer, Selak's mission deepens. Will what he has to do be accepted by the Captain?

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**__**

**Through Fire:** **For Truths and Consequences**

**_Enterprise, Captain's Mess_**

"So," Trip started, trying desperately to break the silence that had fallen over them ever since their dinner had arrived. T'Pol looked up at him, expecting him to continue. "Got any plans when we get back to Earth?"

The Vulcan rose an eyebrow at hearing him say 'once' but choice not to comment, trying to be equally optimistic about their mission. "I… am not entirely sure."

"Really? Don'tcha have some Vulcan friends or somethin' you'd like to see?"

"There are a few colleges I would enjoy seeing again."

Trip nodded, chewing hard on a piece of food. For a moment, she seemed to debate whether or not to mention something before going back to her food as well. He sighed, not quite loud enough for her to hear.

"There's, um, a bar in San Francisco that I spent a lot of time at when I was at the Academy. I was thinking about taking the engineering staff there, to celebrate. You're invited, if you'd like to come," he added.

The Engineer looked sheepishly up at her, not knowing what he should expect. "I would… enjoy that."

A soft smile tugged at his lips. "Good, I'll betcha like it."

"We will see."

"T'Pol? What… if… when we get back, what do ya think the Vulcan High Command will do? I mean, you quit and all and then came with us anyway. I mean… would they letcha back in?"

T'Pol thought over his question a moment. She could feel his gaze on her, watching her as he waited for an answer, but she didn't dare look up at him. "I would imagine that I would not be very… 'warmly' receipted by them, but they would quite possibly accept if I were to ask to be reinstated."

"Oh," he nodded. "Wait, if? You mean… you don't plan to even try?"

Again, the Vulcan looked at him, her eyebrow raised. "No."

"Then… then what are ya goanna do?"

T'Pol looked away, slightly embarrassed by what she was about to reveal. "I have been contemplating… requesting to enter Starfleet Academy."

When T'Pol finally got up the courage to look up at the Engineer, she was met by his astonished gaze- the man in a complete stupor.

"You're goanna what?"

"Enter Starfleet Academy." A smile crept over his lips. "You do not believe I should?"

His smile dropped some, hearing the disappointment in her voice. "No, no that's not it. I just… I was just trying t' imagine you in a Starfleet uniform… And Soval's face when you tell him! Please let me be there for that!" He begged, chuckling at the mental imagines playing out in his mind.

"I merely said I was _thinking_ about it, not that I was going to."

"Okay, okay. Whatever. But, if ya choose to… I'll support you all the way. Maybe the Cap'n could pull a few strings and bump ya up a bit so you don't have to go through basic training and whatever."

"I would… appreciate that."

"I'm sure the Cap'n would be-"

"Not that," she interrupted, stopping Trip in mid-sentence with her soft voice, forcing him to go back to his previous statement to figure out what she meant.

He nodded, a soft smile still tugging at his lips. "Anythin' I can do t' help, just ask."

"I will remember that, Commander."

**_Enterprise, Selak's Quarters_**

"Computer, begin personal log, Stardate 78942.36. January 6, 2154, 1721 hours," the Vulcan recorded on the handheld computer.

With a sigh, he continued. "I'm afraid I just lost my job… I know I ruined my career but… ah, but it was worth it. It seems that after they pulled me out, everything had just gotten worse. Destroying only half of the weapon didn't stop the scientists from thinking up something… things just seemed much more desperate.

"Not to mention that I didn't have time to fix things around here. When they got back… let's just say it didn't help things. Though I would have enjoyed hearing Archer and T'Pol's conversation with Starfleet and the Vulcan High Command- they must have thought that the two were insane after that report.

"Anyway, I'm back because I believe finishing my job will help to prevent such a worse turn of events. Hopefully, the real completion of my mission will allow me to change the future for the better, change the war for the better. Let's just hope."

Selak sighed once again, running a hand over his tired face. Sitting back down on his bed, no longer interested in pacing, he tried organizing the information in his head before finishing.

"My second objective is already in the works. I just hope he's willing, though I can easily find ways around such things. I just… I just don't look forward to returning to that place, to those people.

"The third objective could prove to be far more… problematic. I doubt that Archer would consent with it; I may lose the little trust I've managed to rebuild with them. Who knows what might happen, though I'm ready for it. I'll manage without a problem, I know.

"The forth objective, of course, shouldn't be much of a problem… though I'm not entirely sure how to allow events to happen and not be swept into them. But that, I'm sure, can wait until they happen.

"The fifth objective. I know that, originally, there never was one. But something happened last time, something I'm assuming I might have inadvertently caused, to prevent this from happening. I know that I can't force it into happening, but I just hope that my presence doesn't foul it up farther. Perhaps that will even help it in happening. I'm not sure. And, frankly, I don't much care, just as long as it does."

Again, he ran his hand over his face. With his back up against the wall, he leaned his head back as well, reporting as he did so. "I have to commend Dr. Tanith on her hypothesis of time travel and how it affects memories. It seems that, once I returned, I started to become aware of events that I never remembered before, people I never knew, things that I did that, well, I never did. I even started to forget some people that I do… did… do know.

"It's all starting to become a little confusing. My former mental state appears to be… overclouded, at times, by I guess my other mental state. The two converging to create what seems like a third at other times. It's odd, before- as much as I can remember- I seemed more Vulcan, I acted more Vulcan. Controlled my emotions and everything. But, it seems, that some event either happened, or didn't happen, that changed this. Now I'm more impulsive, more emotional, chaotic."

Selak paused there, thinking back to when, over the past few months, that he had started to notice the changes. It hadn't taken long; a few days or weeks. Little things as easy as remembering a name of an unknown face or forgetting a person that seemed to no longer exist. Speaking of events that never happened, or that did but didn't.

Again, the Vulcan sighed, muttering, "Computer, end log."

**_Enterprise, Bridge, Orbiting Devenion, Next Day_**

Hoshi's hails were finally answered five minutes after she started trying. With a simple order from her Captain, she activated the view screen. On it appeared a man surrounded by his console and many others.

His expressionless gray eyes met Archer's. The Captain almost instinctively knew that he was in not charge. Starring up at the alien, Archer immediately noticed the blue scale-like area on his jaw and neck. He said nothing; it seemed that he was waiting for the Human to start.

"My name is Captain Archer of the Earth Ship _Enterprise_."

"Why are you here? What is your business?" The man on the view screen demanded of them, not bothering to introduce himself.

"We are a peaceful ship. We have no intention of harming you or your people," Archer assured him, taking his suspicious questions as a fear of their ship.

"Hump. They all say that just before they invade you," he mumbled to himself, barely allowing Archer to hear him. "What is your business here?"

Archer seemed almost taken aback at his repetition, but Selak was hardly fazed. "We are here to see an Ambassador Ke'Kou," he demanded with air of talking to a mere servant. "Tell him to expect us."

The man nodded before mumbling, "Hump, no respect for us common slaves," abruptly cutting the connection.

**_Enterprise, Bridge_**

"So, what do you think about Selak? With the whole time-traveling thing?" Trip asked the Vulcan Sub-Commander, leaning over the Captain's chair as he spoke.

She turned her head to look at him, a single eyebrow raised- both in confusion and annoyance. "I am not sure what to think. There was no means of escape for Lieutenant Selak, and he was gone for nearly two days. His hair growth would have been impossible to achieve after only two days which suggest-"

"That he was right and had been gone for a while," Trip finished with a smile, purposely trying to lead her answer.

"I will consider the possibility that he is a time-traveler. Considering the evidence, that is thus far the only explanation."

"So, are you, Sub-Commander T'Pol, admitting to the possibility of time-travel?"

"You are merely repeating what I just stated," she said, mock annoyance rising in her voice.

Trip just smiled, suppressing his laughter, as he nodded. "Yes, but I want to hear you say it."

"I already have, Commander."

"Oh, come on, T'Pol. You're such a party pooper."

"I was not aware we were attending a party at the moment," she retorted, arching her eyebrow once again- an almost silent dare to challenge her.

"Sub-Commander, Shuttle Pod One reports that they've landed safely and without a problem," Mayweather reported, swiveling in his chair to see the two commanders, almost unable to hide his smirk at their banter. He had to admit that it was more amusing than their arguments they had been in, and some had been down right hysterical.

"Thank-you, Ensign."

**_Amocku Controlled Planet, Devenion, _****_Ke'Kou's House_**

The triangular door slid open in front of him- surprising Archer by splitting in three (one triangle going up, and the other two going to their respective sides). He stepped forward, followed closely by Hoshi and Selak- the Vulcan claiming he already knew the language but it could be productive to bring the linguist with them.

Ke'Kou sat at his desk at the far end; he was so involved with the holographic view screen that he never noticed their entry. As Archer grew closer, it became more evident to him that he wasn't yelling at another government official but watching some kind of televised sport.

The Governor didn't look up even as the small group stepped in front of his desk. The Captain gave a low cough, hoping that would catch the man's attention but was only met with a mumbled, "Put it over there."

Archer looked to Selak- not understanding his words and not entirely sure what to do. He was confused by the behavior, hoping that Selak would have something to add about why they were being ignored.

But Selak was not watching him, instead he was focused on the screen. As Archer watched, he could see the faint hint of something- anger? rage? maybe fear- towards both the man and screen.

But it vanished, replaced by Selak's outward Vulcan calm. "He should not have done that. Now he is caught, he'll never get out of it."

Ke'Kou glanced up for only a second, not seeming to realize that anyone was still in the room. But then he counted with, "No see, he's faking him on."

But the A'Mocku's smile quickly disappeared as he saw that Selak was right; the fight was over. "How did you know that?"

"I know a lot about gladiators and the arena."

"I didn't know such a… foreign alien knew anything about this," he said running a hand through the thin, holographic screen. It wavered with the disruption, turning off.

Selak ran a hand through his freshly washed and cut hair. He had decided it would be better to keep up his old appearance, though he left some of the length. Even his face was left with the slight stubble that had formed while he was gone. "I know a lot about your people, you'd be amazed at what I do know."

Another low cough from Archer reminded the two that he was still there- and horribly unaware of what was being said, not to mention what had just happened on the screen.

"Ah, Captain Archer." Governor Ke'Kou smiled, he attention now on the Captain as he stood. His hands- palms facing in- went near his chest, opening them in a seemingly gesture of welcome.

Archer smiled, mimicking the motions. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"And you, Captain," he replied, hearing the translation via Hoshi's communicator.

"Now, what exactly was it that you wanted to see me about?"

Selak waited for Hoshi to translate to the Captain, knowing that Archer knew very little of the details and that he would- in the end- be talking anyway.

"There is a device you have, we're curious about it. Well, actually, we need it."

"What _device_ would this be?"

"A weapon."

"I have scanned your ship, boy, you have many weapons."

Selak resisted the urge to scowl at the "boy" comment, not at all appreciative of the nickname. "Yes, but they're not quite… as powerful as we need."

"And how powerful do you need, boy?"

His cocky smile had returned, but a new, subtle suspicion crept into his eyes. "Powerful enough to defeat our enemy."

"At war are you? Well, I'm afraid we do not involve ourselves in others' wars. I am sorry, I cannot help you." He turned around, walking back behind his desk- his air dismissive.

"I don't buy that. You get involved with many things," Selak stated, leaning forward on the desk Ke'Kou just sat down in. "And this kind of thing is no different."**__**

"I'm afraid the word is final! We have laws and rules against such things. It would not be wise for me to do such a thing."

Selak glared down at the man, hoping to scare him into consenting. But the Amocku weren't ones to be intimidated. Of course, he already knew that.

With a defeated sigh, he turned away, saying, "Ah, well. I had hoped to be able to see your Generator Plant. I've heard great things about the way they're run. Supposedly the best in this region of space. But, if you have such high believes to the contrary-"

"No, no. I think we could fit in a tour. We have nothing against… hosting people. Just sharing technology with them, in war and such things, of course."

Selak nearly beamed, not at the acceptance but at his achievement. Well, at least he'd get something. He nodded warmly, hearing Ke'Kou tell them that he could take them there immediately while Hoshi translated the words to Archer.

Ke'Kou clapped his hands together- a gesture he had learned long ago meant the man was pleased with himself- as he led them out the door. Archer leaned close to Selak, following the man without any real enthusiasm (he seemed to have realized that he played absolutely no part in this away mission).

"How did you manage that so… quickly?"

"It was quite easy, Captain. The Amocku are an extremely egotistical race. As long as they think they're better, they'll do just about anything to continue to prove such a thing."

Archer nodded, not knowing- or really, to some extend, wanting to- how he had become such a genius on this race. "But why do we want to go to this place?"

Selak looked at his supposed CO. He couldn't help but smile. "No reason really, Captain. No reason at all." With that, he walked faster, catching up with Ke'Kou, and leaving Archer behind to mull in what he had just heard.

**_Enterprise, Sickbay_**

"How have you been feeling?" Phlox asked, running his tricorder over Trip's body.

"Not bad," the southerner reported, shifting uncomfortably on the biobed.

"How well have you been sleeping?"

"Ah… well, but T'Pol's been helping with that."

"How many times a week does she perform neuropressure?"

"Um… every night," he said with a shrug, not sure if that was a good or bad thing to admit.

"Do you feel that it's necessary?"

"Um…" he said with a sigh, "I'm not really sure but… it helps."

Phlox gave a passive nod, not replying. "Have you been nauseous at all?"

Trip shrugged at the sudden change in questioning before thinking back to the past few days. "Now that you mention it, um, not fer a couple o' days. "

"Good," Phlox commented with a smile, putting his scanner away. "There seems to be virtually none of the toxin left in your system."

"Well, that's good."

"Yes," Phlox nodded in agreement.

"Um, can I go now, I've gotta be on the bridge in a couple minutes."

"Just one more thing," he said from the next room, Trip not able to see him from his position on the bed. "I just want to give you this. It should help to rid the rest of the toxin from your system."

Trip turned his neck, allowing Phlox to administer the injection, wincing slightly when he felt the small prick of the needle. "There you go. I want to see you again in two days."

"No problem. Thanks." Trip hopped down, just glad to be getting out of there; he really hated doctors, Phlox- though a trusted friend and good physician- was still among them.

Phlox sighed, watching his friend leave. He still had a long road ahead of him. He already had a tough life, it wasn't fair to add this on top of all that.

**_Amocku Controlled Planet, Devenion, Generator Plant_**

"And this, Captain…" Selak heard Ke'Kou say as he led Archer and Hoshi the other way. But Selak hung back, hoping that the alien would not notice his absence- or that either of the Humans would point out the fact.

Looking around him, he found that the plant was bussing with activity and people, none of whom spared him a glance. He immediately noticed their uniforms- they were slaves. Right down to the numbers (handwritten) onto their left pectoral.

With a sigh, he walked across to the computer terminal, reminding himself that he could do nothing to help them- they probably wouldn't even want it, much less the fact that they had nowhere to go. Just like he sometimes found himself realizing.

With the press of a few simple buttons, Selak managed to get into the mainframe, punching up the data he wanted. Another minute, he was skimming over the schematic in front of him. Sure enough, it was what he wanted.

Pulling out a small, hand-held device from his pocket, the Vulcan quickly hooked it up to the terminal, his hands quivering from the amount of adrenaline pumping through his body. His stomach felt as if it were doing back flips just as he lungs wouldn't give him a second to enjoy a breath.

Running a hand over his face, Selak tried to stop the pounding in his head- caused by a mixture of his fast pumping blood and trying to translate the foreign text. But he didn't have time for that. Ke'Kou would have them back at any moment, he had to move quickly.

He had to move quicker…

"As you can see," he heard Ke'Kou's voice echo in the distance, hearing their footsteps grow closer.

He looked down at the device, mentally urging it to move faster, to download the data faster. He needed this information; he couldn't get caught.

"Hurry up, hurry up," he muttered under his breath, trying hard to keep his trembling hands steady and his foot silent, the urge to tap his feet or something suddenly over coming him.

He looked over his shoulder where he had heard Ke'Kou's voice. He couldn't yet see them, but he could hear them getting closer. Nearly turning the corner. If that happened, they would see him. Which could only lead to awkward questions and a messier situation than he would like.

A high pitched, yet quite, beep alerted the Vulcan that the download was complete. Hurriedly, he practically ripped out the link, shoving the device into his pocket as he attempted to shut down the computer.

His hands shook, making him push the wrong button. His stomach did a summersault as he heard Archer's distinct voice. He looked over his shoulder, scolding himself as he realized what his instincts had caused him to do: waste time.

Just as the group of three turned the corner, Selak slipped in front of the terminal, pretending to be interested in something he saw on the wall. In truth, it was a simple machine Vuclans had long ago lost need with, having invented more efficient machines.

"Ah! Lieutenant! There you are!" Ke'Kou exclaimed. Selak took a deep breath, trying to calm both his exterior and interior- wishing that his blood wasn't pumping so fast.

Turning, he was the model of Vulcan poise. "Yes, I thought you had gone that way. I thought you might return here," Selak told him with a ghost of a smile, gesturing to the opposite way they had gone. "So, what did I miss?"

Ke'Kou seemed to have completely forgotten the event, going on to explain to him something about power relays and so forth. Selak just tried not to roll his eyes; trying to remember if all those things were out dated by the Vulcans.

"Um, Selak, I think it's about time for us to be heading back to _Enterprise_." The Vulcan nodded at Archer, thankful that he would be able to get out of there.

"Thank-you very much for the tour of your facility," Selak told him, his voice shifting easily to the Amocku language in Ke'Kou's ears.

"Perhaps you would enjoy coming to dinner, later," the man offered, Hoshi quickly translating the words to Archer.

"I would like that," the Captain agreed with a smile, hoping that it would help in some ways with whatever it was that Selak was trying to do. The Vulcan nodded politely, not sure exactly if it was a good thing or bad- he knew he wasn't finished with his mission.

"Please, bring your other officers. I would be delighted to have them as well."

Archer looked to Hoshi, nodding with the translation. Truth be told, he didn't like the harsh sounds the man's language was made up of, but that wasn't something he was going to comment on, it didn't mean that the man himself wasn't interesting.

"Thank-you. I will extend the invitation, but they have been very busy lately." Ke'Kou nodded, excitedly, as he led them back to their shuttle.

**_Enterprise, Bridge_**

"So, Cap'n, how was it?" Trip joked as Archer, Hoshi, and Selak walked off the turbolift.

"It was… interesting. Ke'Kou invited us back down for dinner. All of us, which means you two, and Malcolm, are invited to come along."

Trip looked over at Malcolm, in truth the two of them had just finished discussing why they didn't want to go down there.

"Um, actually, sir, I'm still very busy with… these diagnostics. I don't think I… should go."

"Yeah, me too. I have a lot of catch up work down in Engineering. Actually, I should be going now. Tell 'im thanks anyway," Trip said in a rush, moving off toward the turbolift.

"Wonder what's his problem," Archer muttered, looking to T'Pol. "What about you?"

"I do not think that would be wise. With Commander Tucker so busy, I will be needed on the bridge," she rationalized, having stood from the Captain's chair in anticipation of his taking it.

"If that's what you want. We'll be leaving in an hour. Have Shuttle Pod Two prepped."

"Yes, sir."

"Hoshi, you still willing to go down, or will I have to use Selak as my translator?" Archer asked, grinning at his communications officer and long time friend.

"I think I'm game to go back down. Besides, I'm just starting to get a handle on their language. It's very complex," she explained, already pouring over notes and such that she had gotten while on the planet.

"If you want. Selak, you're still coming?"

"Of course, Captain," was his short answer, the Vulcan already standing at his station.

"Good." Moving closer, Archer leaned against Selak's console. "By the way, where did you learn their language?"

"I spent time among them, I managed to pick it up well enough to speak it," he explained, knowing that Hoshi would be thrilled to spend time with someone who could speak the language, but he would prefer to spend as little time with them and speaking it. This was just a one-time affair.

"One hour, I'll see the both of you down in the Shuttle Bay," Archer ordered, receiving two nods from them before entering his ready room.

**_Amocku Controlled Planet, Devenion, _****_Ke'Kou's House_**

With a simple wave of his hand, Selak shooed away the young man, his glass being taken with him. "I see you have an abundance of servants here. It must cost you a fortune to pay them all," Selak joked, by then his two companions were accustom enough to his unusual behavior.

"Oh, hardly, my dear boy." Ke'Kou laughed, he too waving away one of the other waiters. "That's the great thing about the Delvian Slave Trade- you get twice the slaves for half the price!" Selak forced himself to smirk with the Governor's amusement, Archer and Hoshi not able to hide their distain.

"And they are mostly obedient after they're… properly trained. Hun, boy?" Ke'Kou continued on, taking the slave-boy by the collar of his shirt. His eyes looked only at Ke'Kou's chest, no words coming to his mouth just as no fight was in his body.

"See what I mean?" It wasn't until then that he noticed the looks he was getting from the two humans. "Oh, why those looks? You do not approve of the training?"

"Oh, hardly. They seem… well trained. It's just-" he gestured to his Captain and Hoshi, "Human's do not believe in slavery. It bothers them."

"And you?" Ke'Kou leaned forward, intrigued by the young man. He could see the hatred in his eyes. It may have been hidden well, but it was there- covered over by his diplomatic approach and practiced acting. "Does it bother you?"

Selak smiled, leaning forward in an identical motion, his hands folded on the table. "Let's just say… I don't much care for those who choose to condone it."

Selak leaned back, not missing the look of annoyance on the Governor's face. Carefully, without drawing attention, he slid his hand into his pocket, slowly pulling it back out as he stood. Slipping a thin band around his finger, Selak approached Ke'Kou, he too standing.

"Well, I believe it is time for us to return to our ship."

"So soon? I was just starting to have fun."

"I apologize. But, we must be going." There was no emotion in Selak's voice as he replied to the Amocku's complaint.

"Your mission, of course."

Selak nodded, trying to look as if he were disappointed. Mimicking Ke'Kou, Selak copied the departing gesture effortlessly. "Thank-you again for all your help." Ke'Kou nodded, a small smile on his face. In a split second, Selak's grief disappeared. His left hand moved up, touching Ke'Kou's bare bicep.

In an instant, his airway began to restrict. His confusion quickly turned to fear as the Amocku realized what was happening. It took less than twenty seconds for him to hunch over the table, his body efficiently void of oxygen.

"We should leave quickly," Selak stated, turning and heading for the door.

Archer grabbed his arm, disbelief written clearly in his eyes. "You just-"

"I know what I did!" He yelled, his face only inches from Archer's. "I may have just saved thousands of lives. Now, let's move!"

**_Enterprise, Bridge_**

"They were my orders, Captain," Selak stated as the two entered his ready room.

"That doesn't change the fact that you killed a man. A potential ally."

"Any ally of that man is no man I want to know."

"I can see that, but you still haven't-"

"In three years, Captain," Selak interrupted, "he would have had two sons. Those sons would have begun the Amocku's thirst for power. Their imperialisation would have changed to complete military dictatorship bent on gobbling up land and power. And not just in this area of the Expanse, but they would, eventually, become one of the largest powers in the Milky Way Galaxy. Challenged only by Earth and her allies."

"So you killed him. Killed him so that his children, two boys that haven't even been born, couldn't create this so called empire?"

"I killed him in hopes that the war would be different. They're a fascist, totalistic people. They spend every moment of their lives concentrated on domination after their planet was depleted of all natural resources. Eventually a dictator will rise and their people will still begin a war- that we know. It's just that we hope that we'll make it a little better."

"And what if by eliminating these men, you've just opened the door for someone worse?"

"Then that's our problem, isn't it?" Selak turned, pausing for a moment before he finished. "We have ways of fixing these things. Don't worry."

"Just tell me it was worth it."

Selak paused at the door, a PADD still behind his back. He turned, looking at Archer; it was apparent that he was in deep debate about what he was about to say.

Finally he seemed to make a decision. He stepped closer to Archer, who was now sitting in his chair, extending his hand. For a moment, Archer looked at the PADD, then at Selak, before he taking the device.

"I believe that T'Pol will find it… useful."

"For what?"

"With this, I'm sure both she and Commander Tucker will be able to find a way to disable the spheres."

"I'm not sure-"

"Even if you are able to destroy _this_ weapon, Captain," Selak continued as if he knew exactly what Archer was about to say. "There is no sure way to know it the Xindi will not make another. The only way to do that is to earn their trust, their friendship. Perhaps you will be able to prove to them how the transdimensional beings have manipulated you and them."

"By destroying the spheres for them?"

"By keeping the aliens from destroying all the life in the Expanse- and by keeping the Expanse from consuming the rest of the galaxy."

"And you think they'll believe us?"

"I think that… that is your part of the mission. I helped the only way I can." Archer nodded, looking down at the schematics on the PADD. "Am I dismissed?"

He looked up, trying to decide if he had anything further to say to the Vulcan. Instead, he just nodded, a silent thank-you hanging in the air. Selak turned, walking out the door in one swift motion, not unsure of his actions.

**_Enterprise, T'Pol's Quarters_**

Trip spoke amicably about this and that, looking over his shoulder as T'Pol worked the neuronods in his shoulders and neck. He had been getting better over the past few days, improving as he continued his regular sessions with T'Pol and working hard to _want_ to get better.

"Commander, are you implying that Lieutenant Shiva is attracted to Lieutenant Reed?" T'Pol asked, trying to look him in the eye as best she could. It never ceased to amaze her about the wealth of useless information Trip managed to collect.

"Hey, I'm just saying it like I heard it," he protested, taking a sudden intake of breath as she put pressure on one of the more sensitive nods.

"Perhaps you should not be saying it at all," T'Pol retorted.

"Whatever," Trip said, his tone admitting his defeat.

A comfortable silence settled over the two. T'Pol merely continuing to focus on her work. But, for Trip, something kept nagging at him and he couldn't decide whether or not he should talk to her about it. T'Pol, seeming to sense this, broke the silence by saying so.

"Ah, it's nothin', T'Pol. Just… thinkin'."

"Turn," she ordered, continuing to speak as he did such. "About what?" His embarrassed, shy look urged her to push the subject. "Perhaps talking about it would ease your mind."

"I don't think its somethin' ya want t' talk about," he admitted, feeling the gentle pressure she applied to the front of his neck.

"How would you know if you do not ask?"

"I just know." He looked up into her curious eyes, waiting for him to break and spill. In that moment, he recalled what Selak had said. He had been for the past week ignoring what the young Vulcan had told him, trying not to even think about it. But he knew it must be important if Selak had bothered to tell him.

Giving an exaggerated sigh, he finally said, "About… about yer little _experiment_."

T'Pol's eyebrow rose, interested in what else had been running through his mind. "And?"

"Just… I guess I had really been hopin' that… we would of decided on something else than what we did."

T'Pol thought about that for a moment, contemplating on what he meant. But she knew without the need to ask what he wanted. She starred at her hands as they moved over his skin, wishing desperately to hide her emotions from him before they welled up to the surface, as she feared they might.

Trip's hands moved up to stop T'Pol's progress, forcing her to look up at him. She knew from the look in his eyes that he wasn't just finished with neuropressure for the night. His body shifted, allowing him to lean in closer and capture her lips with his. T'Pol's hands broke free from his grasp, moving behind his neck and tangling themselves in his hair. His, too, began to roam her body as he hungrily kissed her.

As her lips brushed past his again, Trip suppressed a shutter of desire. And, for that moment, he was in paradise…

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**__**

Hey look! There's some T/T in this story, amazing! It only took five chapters.

So, how was it? Either way, I hope you liked it, no matter how late it may be. Please, R/R and have a great day!


	6. For Reasons and Cures

Author's Note: Hey look, it's actually Wednesday! Finally, I was able to keep my semi-promise.

OK, I don't really have much to say- nothing really- so I'll just let you move on and read. Just enjoy and please R/R.

Summary: The _Enterprise_ encounters a ship filled with aliens all dying. But why doesn't Selak want to help them?

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**__**

**Through Fire:** **For Reasons and Cures**

The boy starred up at him, fear etched in his eyes, as the crowd yelled and screamed and pounded their chests with their fists.

_The alien grabbed a hold of his chain, digging the collar into the back of his neck, pulling his face to his. _

_He was pushed out the gate, the knife still firmly in his hand. Looking up around him, the crowd yelled and jeered. The hot sand burned the soles of his bare feet. _

_He dropped his knife, the metal making no sound as it hit the sand floor. He turned away, walking away from the crowd and the boy. _

_His back hit hard against the metal structure, the air knocked from his chest. _

_The alien released him, throwing him into the sand. A small moan escaped him; the sand finding its way into the cut on his thigh._

_The alien slowly pulled out the knife, a sucking sound all that he could hear- even over the crowd. _

_He ran, his breathing nothing but quick pants. He could feel the sand spray up behind him, hear the crowd shout and yell in protest of his movements. _

_The blow struck across his face, knocking him to the ground- the soft sand lessening the impact but burning his skin from the heat it held. _

Selak's eyes opened with a jolt. With a deep breath, he blinked away the sweat that threatened to fall into his eyes. His breathing slowed, calming his raging heart, the sound echoing in his ears.

With a sigh, Selak turned onto his side, pulling his blanket up closer to his chin as if it could protect him from his dreams. Folding his body up into a ball, his body abandoned its mind, allowing a tear to slide down his cheek, a soft sob to be released from his lips.

He had wept for the memories before; cried over the futility of forgetting them and the pure thought that he had lived through them. He took a few calming breaths, trying to rid his mind of the memories, the thoughts he had desperately sought to forget.

But the thoughts would never go away. He knew they wouldn't. They were things that had haunted his dreams for years; things that would continue to haunt him for the rest of his damned existence.

**_Enterprise, Engineering_**

"So, how are things going?" Selak asked, looking down at the monitor Trip was working on. They had been working for two days trying to find a way to integrate the weapon he had "borrowed" from the Amocku into the _Enterprise_'s systems.

"What things?"

"You know, you and T'Pol? You never mentioned how dinner was," he teased, knowing that Trip was glaring at him, even without looking.

"Oh, um… things are goin' well. Dinner was… nice and… oh, hell, will you stop smirking?" The southerner said, becoming flustered.

"Sorry," Selak laughed, punching in a few last sequences.

"Why's it so important fer… why did you bother t' tell me?" Trip looked away from his work, focusing instead on the Vulcan.

"Because it's very important that you have this child."

"Why?"

Selak looked over at him. He sighed; would it really hurt to tell him? "Because… well… your son-"

"I'm gonna have a son?"

"A son and a daughter," the Vulcan nodded with a soft smile. "The son first, though. And he will go on to get married, and so on and so forth until your great, great, great-"

"Great, great, thousand greats- I get the picture," Trip interrupted, using his hand to demonstrate.

"Right, your great, great, great, grandson will be one of the most important, extremely pivotal diplomats involved with a cease-fire and an end to the war. And… his younger brother is… a very good friend of mine. He… helped with some stuff," Selak admitted, turning back to his work.

Trip nodded, a smile creeping over his face. "I'm gonna have two kids?"

"You're going to have a good life; you really are," the Vulcan whispered. Clearing his throat, "We should get back to work. I think we're close to having this compatible to the ship."

"Right. Yeah, T'Pol and Malcolm'll want t' take a look, I'd imagine," he muttered, going back to reading the data on the screen.

"Yeah, we can take it to them once we're finished here."

**_Enterprise, Bridge_**

"Captain, the sensors are picking up a ship of unknown configuration approaching our position," Malcolm reported, looking up at his Captain as he spoke.

"How far away?"

Glancing down quickly, "14,000 kilometers."

"Captain, they're hailing us," Hoshi stated. "Should I reply?"

Archer sighed, rising from his chair. "Might as well find out what they want and who they are. On screen."

Almost immediately, Archer was starring at a man on the view screen. Looking him over quickly, Archer found that he couldn't quite place the familiar looking alien- his blue scales coating over his neck and jaw line as well as his hands. The man ran a hand through his thick blonde hair, his movements tired and sluggish- it was obvious that the man hadn't slept in days.

"Hello, my name is Captain Jonathan Archer of the starship _Enterprise_. And you are?"

The man tilted his head, mostly likely confused by his language. Archer looked to Hoshi, but she shrugged, she would need him to speak before she could try to figure out his language. "Uh, can you understand me?" Archer asked. "You'll need to talk a little bit."

The alien looked down at his console, pressing a few buttons before replying, "Now I understand. It takes time to translate. I am So'Fic, leader of this ship."

Archer nodded, a small smile on his lips. "How can we help you?"

"We are very sick- my people have an illness. We… cannot treat it; do have a doctor? Can you help us?" The man asked, his voice pleading and desperate.

Archer looked in desperation towards his science officer, she was the best thing at the moment to a doctor. She merely arched an eyebrow, indicating that she hadn't a clue what was wrong with them or if they could help.

"Well, we could try to help, but I can't promise you anything. We're not native to this region of space, we're not familiar with any of the illnesses."

"We… appreciate any assistance you can give," So'Fic told them, bowing his head in a manner of thanking them.

"I will have to talk to my doctor, find out what he might be able to do. I'll contact you soon," Archer told him, a smile and nod the last thing he did before the view screen went blank. "Contact Phlox, tell him to meet me in my ready room."

But, before Hoshi could respond, Selak announce, "That was a Gwri," starring dumbfounded at the view screen, barely having walked out of the turbolift doors, Trip nearly walking right into him.

"I don't know, he never said what his species was."

"No, that _was_ a Gwri," Selak confirmed, turning to Archer. "We should leave now, before they have the chance to infect the crew," Selak stated, gaining the attention of almost the entire bridge.

"We can't just leave them to die," Travis complained, looking back and forth between the Captain and Selak, not sure who he needed to convince.

"Well, it would sure make my job easier," the Vulcan muttered, looking away from the group with indifference.

"Is that all you think about?" Trip spat at him, obviously disgusted with the young man. "Your mission and how to complete it?" Selak just glared at him, having nothing to say about it.

Well, if he were honest with himself, he had plenty to say. To retort hotly with how he had risked everything to return, how he was trying to make a better future for them and himself, how the first time through he had just screwed everything up.

But he said nothing, allowing instead for Trip to continue on with, "I thought I knew you, but the Selak I got to know would never want to leave them to die."

Selak was barely able to hide his scowl. "In case you haven't noticed, the Selak you befriended never existed." With a sigh, he turned away. This wasn't the time or place to explain temporal mechanics to the lost looking officers.

At that moment, Phlox made his entrance, looking around to find himself in the middle of a heated debate. "Um, Captain? You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, in my ready room. Trip, T'Pol, Selak, you too."

The four followed Archer into the ready room, leaving Hoshi, Malcolm, and Travis to speculate on the outcome. With a quick explanation to Phlox about what happened, the doctor turned to Selak, asking, "You can't honestly not want us to help them?"

"You can't help them. This disease they have, that's the second part of the weapon," he complained, thankful in that moment that Captain Archer had taken the time nearly a week ago to brief the senior staff on him and his mission.

"Just because-"

"I'm saying THEY CAN'T BE HELPED!" Selak shouted, startling everyone in the room. "There is no cure for what they have."

"Surely you must have come up with something if you used it," Phlox commented, hoping that he wasn't just saying it to force them to leave.

"No. There isn't one. They tried, you tried, we tried. Hell, even our enemies tried. No one made one. There just… there isn't a cure, there's no way to help them. And no way to help yourselves if-"

Selak stopped abruptly, suddenly recalling what he had read about this virus. If they didn't at least try to help, he would alter more than he'd like to admit. Whether or not he wanted to do extra work didn't seem to really matter.

He took a deep breath, finishing. "Their entire race will be whipped out in a few months. That or enslaved. It's pointless to try, but… guilty consciences are worse than a waste of time."

Archer nodded, knowing immediately that he wasn't telling them something. His cut off sentence excluded, his slumped shoulders and bowed head were proof of such.

"Very well. Doctor, I suggest you prepare Sickbay for their arrival."

Phlox nodded, looking back at Selak before walking away. "Doctor. It's spread through touch; it's not airborne." With only mute acknowledgment of his advice, Phlox left.

Archer caught Selak's eye; his ethical side hadn't fully collapsed after whatever had happened when he returned to the future, there was still something of him left in there, hopefully it would remain long enough to get through this.

**_Enterprise, Docking Port_**

Waiting outside the airlock, Archer looked over at Phlox. While the Captain may have been more than just simply nervous about the possibility of exposing his crew- as So'Fic assured him would not happen- Phlox seemed to be intrigued by this encounter. Almost as if invigorated by the chance to met a colleague and defeat a challenge.

The green light on the door release blinked on, alerting Archer that his guests were ready to enter. Taking a deep breath, he hit a red button, allowing the door to slide opened, revealing three Gwri. Looking them over, he could see that each of them was wearing the same tight, white uniforms, the sleeves stretching over their hands in a form of protective gloves, and masks placed firmly over their mouths.

The first male stepped forward, Archer needing a moment to identify him as So'Fic. "Captain Archer, I am glad to see you well."

The Captain mimicked So'Fic's slight bow, clearly a gesture of greeting. "So'Fic. This is my Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Phlox." All three bowed to Phlox, showing their respect and greeting.

"My- what you would call- First Officer, Dan'At, and our ship's doctor, Ken'Ara."

The Denoblian smiled and nodded at her. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Since you won't need these two in Sickbay immediately, Doctor, I thought they might enjoy a tour of the ship. If that's of course alright with you two?"

"Of course. I would be most interested in seeing your ship; it seems… quite fascinating," So'Fic responded, nodding his head vigorously at the idea.

"Very well then. Shall we start with the bridge?"

"I hope you do not mind missing the tour?" Phlox said once they were out of hearing range and the two were walking towards Sickbay.

"No. Engines and consoles and endless talk about weaponry hardly interests me. Oh no, the only part of this ship I _want_ to see, is your Sickbay."

"Well, I think I can manage that," the doctor joked, just as he led her onto the turbolift.

**_Enterprise, Command Center_**

Trip glanced over at T'Pol, a soft smile playing on his lips as he saw her look at him. He was enjoying working side-by-side with her without interruptions, even if it had been tedious work until all the details had been smoothed over.

With a sigh, he finished the last of his calculations, letting his mind going back over them almost mechanically as he thought about everything going on in his life. 'The Xindi, the weapon, trying to save Earth, and, oh yeah… I have to have a kid by the time I leave here. Not exactly the way I would have went for the family thing,' he thought. But, he had to admit, it was intriguing to think about it. And who best to have a child with than T'Pol?

Trip cringed, trying hard not to laugh at the mental comment he had just made. Oh, if it had only been a year ago, maybe two, he would have laughed so hard at the thought. But, now standing there with her, he wasn't so sure he wouldn't enjoy it. He would at least give it a shot.

"Commander?"

"Yeah?" He looked over at her; she was standing with her body facing the many screens, but looking straight at him.

"I was wondering… if you still intended on coming every night for neuropressure, considering your increased in ability to sleep on your own."

Trip smiled. Always the Vulcan. But, he had to admit, his sleeping was better and he really hadn't needed so much neuropressure half the time any more. It was just, well he liked being in her company… and there was still that little matter of, well…

Putting on a sly smile, he prayed that no one would feel the urge to walk in the room at that moment. "Well, it's not like we have to do neuropressure," he drawled, seeing the corners of her lips twitch with amusement.

Moving a little closer, though not enough to be touching her, he half-whispered, "There are many other interesting things we can do-"

"So, Tr-" Selak began, interrupting Trip before he could finish. "Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?" Selak smirked, stepping inside the command center only to see Trip quickly moving away from T'Pol.

"Hardly."

The younger Vulcan shrugged off the coldness in her voice, hoping that it was merely her being Vulcan- or just annoyed at being seen. "How are you coming along?"

"Not bad, but we keep running into a small problem with power fluctuations in the manifolds," Trip explained, Selak not missing the small blush that was slowly receding from his face.

_"Archer to T'Pol,"_ suddenly boomed over the comm.; T'Pol moving to activate the link.

"T'Pol here."

_"T'Pol, could you come up to the Bridge? The Gwri have some technical questions, I think they'd sound better coming from you."_

"On my way, captain." With a last, quick glance at the two engineers- who were watching her with mild interest- she deactivated the comm. link and walked out.

"The manifolds, huh?" Selak asked as if nothing had happened, suddenly looking up at the screens.

"Yeah," the engineer nodded absent-mindedly.

"It's a simple matter of re-routing the EPS conduits here into the deflector to keep it from overloading. Then you reduce the power to the impulse engines and take the warp engines off-line. Engineering 101."

Trip starred blankly at the Vulcan, shaking his head at the manner-o-factly tone he spoke in. "Yeah, in a couple hundred years from now, sure."

"What are you talking about? The procedure was invented… it's invented this year," he said ruefully, looking as if he was going to slam his head on the console.

"So, I'll learn it when I get back," he teased, not noticing the frustrated look on Selak's face.

"No, you don't get it… it was in one of your reports."

"Okay, so I would have thought it up in a couple of days. Big deal, you'll just give me a jumpstart."

"No, I doubt it. Oh! I can't believe this!" He muttered to himself.

"What?"

"I'm teaching myself how to do this!" He moaned. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned to see Trip in utter confusion.

"Sorry? You've lost me."

"Ever heard of a predestination paradox?"

"A what?"

"You do know what a paradox is, don't you?"

"Yeah, it's when… well, a, um… a cycle or something?" Trip tried to pull out the right words to explain what he meant, all the while trying to drag his mind are the possibility that the theories were real.

"It's when the effect causes the cause," the Vulcan stated easily; Trip just gave him a blank look. "Ok, it's when event A happens, which causes effect B, which in turn causes event A. And so on. It never ends until an outside force makes it."

"Right. So what's a predist-"

"Predestination paradox. That's a paradox when… a person, say 28 year years old, is in Time A and causes events that will eventually lead up to Time B, when he's born. Then, Time C is when this person is 28 and goes back in time."

"So, you being here is causing… what?"

"Who know? Issues?" Selak shrugged, turning back to the console with a sigh.

But Trip was still wrapped up in the paradox his friend was supposedly in. "So, what happens after Time C?"

"What do you mean?"

"You go back in time to A. But what happens after C? Or is it A?"

"Well," Selak said with a sigh, looking periodically up at the screen as he typed. "Assuming that the time-traveler doesn't die in the past, he or she will be brought back to the future minutes or days after Time C, which, for me, will technically be an alternate dimension because of the changes I caused. So, it's really perspective that decides which 'Time' period it falls under. The time-traveler will see it as Time A, because that's where they just were. The others that bring him back, will see it as Time C, because that's the time that just passed for them."

"Ah, I think I get it."

"Good, then let's get to work. See if you get this."

**_Enterprise, Sickbay_**

"May I ask you something?" Phlox asked Ken'Ara as they walked through the corridor to Sickbay, having paused a moment to introduce the Gwri doctor to a few of the Humans.

"If you like."

Both doctors looked at each other, Phlox intrigued by the mask she wore- one that was simply placed on her face with no sign of straps or attachments. "I have been told that this… disease is transmitted through tactical contact, not-"

"You wish to know why we wear the masks?" she interrupted, a soft smile playing on her hidden lips. She sighed, shrugging. "We know that they only way to spread it is to touch people, that is why we wear these suits. But the masks make others feel better- safer."

Phlox nodded in understand, walking on in silence. "But, if you know of these precautions, then how did it spread so much?"

"We did not always know of it. Before, it spread like wildfire. It took us doctors years to find merely what caused it to spread- not what started it or how to stop it. I do hope you can help."

Phlox nodded, only able to think of Selak's warning. "I do as well. Well, here we are," he announced, stopping to allow Ken'Ara inside.

She walked in, halting in awe of the Infirmary. "Wow, it's… bigger than I thought!"

"Yes, it is a larger Sickbay than most ships have," Phlox agreed, letting her move around in awe, taking in all the monitors and so forth.

With a sigh, she pulled herself out of her stupor, taking out what appeared to be a PADD from her pocket. "Well, we should get down to work, I guess."

Phlox nodded. "First, could I ask exactly how this disease works? I mean, you have it correct? But you have no symptoms."

"Yes, mostly all the Gwri carry it. It has spread completely through our solar system. But it doesn't immediately kill you. It will lie dormant in your system for sometime. But it varies from person to person; some take years before symptoms appear and they die, others it is simply a matter of days."

"And, because so few knew they had it at first, it was easily able to spread without anyone knowing it," the doctor deduced.

"Exactly."

"And the symptoms. What are they exactly?"

Ken'Ara turned slowly, looking him directly in the eye as she spoke. "The disease is constantly wearing away the lining in the lungs- whether slowly or quickly, it depends on the person. But, eventually, the blood will start to fill the lungs in, causing the person to have shortness of breath and blood loss do to internal bleeding. Then, ultimately, they will choke on their our blood. It's a horrible way to die; I've already seen my fair share of it. The children are the worst."

Phlox nodded, choking back tears. He couldn't imagine what it must be like to know that that was how you were going to die. Especially for a child to know, and understand, such a thing. "Then, um… we should get working."

**_Enterprise, Captain's Ready Room_**

Archer smiled lightly at So'Fic, finding that he truly did enjoy the man's company. It with his First Officer that he found hard to deal with. The younger man was quiet and suspicious, not all together bad but he was also curt, arrogant, and narcissistic.

Walking into his Ready Room, Dan'At followed as the two Captains talked, not at all impressed by anything they said, did, or that he was shown.

"Then our missions are not far from each other. You are trying to save your world and people from annihilation from another force, whereas we are trying to save our people and culture from a disease. We have more in common than I at first thought."

Archer nodded. "Yes, but it has not been an easy mission. Already we've lost many of our crew; and our ship has been damaged quiet severely."

"Yes, we noticed when we first encountered your ship. But you seem to be holding well together," So'Fic observed, the other Gwri all but forgotten.

"There are a few things we could use, but we get what we can and work with it."

"In exchange for all the help you've given us, it would only be fair of us to give whatever we can spare to help your ship." Archer looked up sharply at So'Fic's generous offer. Then he smiled and nodded.

"Please, see to what they need, Dan'At." The young Gwri, trying hard not to huff at So'Fic's order, turned quickly and marched off.

"No offense, but Dan'At seems a little, um… insolent."

"He is young and eager, and too much like my brother: headstrong and stubborn," So'Fic replied, watching the door the young man just exited with a sigh.

"I take it he's your nephew?" The Gwri looked at Archer, his face rattled with confusion. "Oh, uh… your brother's son?"

"Yes. I have looked after him the past few cycles… after both his parents died." Archer just nodded, assuming that he was speaking of their disease. "Sometimes I think he forces his grief into anger, aiming it at whomever crosses his path."

"It's a hard thing to live with. You can't really blame him."

"No… I just wish he'd learn to express it differently."

Archer nodded mutely, looking away from So'Fic. "Perhaps we should check on the doctors' progress."

**_Enterprise, T'Pol's Quarters_**

Trip worked the neuronods on T'Pol's neck, enjoying the relief and pleasure he knew she derived from it. She sat with her back to his, speaking softly to him as he worked. Some was instructions, most was merely light conversation between the two.

Trip leaned closer, pressing his lips to her skin, his thumbs still applying gentle pressure to the areas she instructed him on. He knew that she would protest to his contact, probably shoo him away as they worked, but he enjoyed doing it anyway. Call it simple Human pleasure.

That or he just liked to have her scold him.

"Commander."

"Trip," he insisted, lightly placing kisses along her neck.

"Trip," the word came out of her mouth without thought as she moaned softly in pleasure. "We should be… concentrating." He had to smile at her attempt to make him stop but she was enjoying the contact too much to truly do anything about it.

"All we do is work all day," Trip complained, his hands moving down her bare back, his lips absorbing her sweet taste. "Can't we just… play once in a while?"

T'Pol's head lolled back, resting on his shoulder. Her eyes closed, letting him indulge. Perhaps now and then, she could agree to the indulgence. It may not have been a very Vulcan perspective but she was finding herself- whether to her dismay or delight, she did not know- more and more Human every day.

**_Enterprise, Captain's Ready Room_**

"Captain's Log, January 14, 2154.

"Even with the combined efforts of Dr. Ken'Ara and Dr. Phlox, I'm afraid we have come no closer to solving the puzzle than Selak said we would. Ah well, it's only been four days- I have plenty of faith in our doctor to help. I'm only afraid of what this pause will do to our mission.

"I guess that's what Selak's weapon is for- I just hope he's right and we can get the Xindi to believe us. Well, that is if we can get the device to work. So far the three of them have been at a dead end. Though they assure me the theory works, it's instituting it and making absolute sure that it doesn't destroy the ship that is the problem.

"Let's just hope they get it to work. Otherwise, who knows what might happen?

"Computer, pause log." Archer sighed, looking back down at his dog. "What do you think, Porthos?" The small dog barked, remaining on his padded bed. "That's what I thought. We'll get through this, we always seem to manage, don't we?"

**_Enterprise, Sickbay_**

"Ah, Lieutenant Selak. To what do I owe this pleasure?" Phlox inquired as Selak walked in.

The Vulcan looked over at the physician; he was still sitting at his console presumably working on the Gwri's disease. Apparently Ken'Ara already returned to her ship. All the better. "Well, I have a favor to ask."

Phlox smile diminished slightly, but not significantly enough to notice. Standing, he walked closer to the young man, Selak obviously nervous or embarrassed about asking it. "What is it that you need?"

"Well, um, you see… this is kind of hard to explain. If you were to scan me, I have, um… a small device implanted just under my right ear," he informed the doctor, showing him the small, three centimeter scar he bore from it.

"May I assume that you want it removed?" The Denoblian asked, already intrigued at its function and why, if it was there, the Vulcan would want it removed.

"Yes."

"Can I ask why?"

"It, um… it's hard to explain. I just need it removed."

"Can't the doctor's in your time do that once you get back?" Phlox inquired, leading him over to one of the biobeds.

"Well, they can, but they won't. Starfleet, in my time, thinks it's safer to leave it in."

"Then should I be taking it out?" He paused, halting his movements before he was even able to take a scan of Selak.

"Yes, it's safe for me to have it removed. At least it should be. As long as you have the ability to safely remove it. They're worried about themselves. War makes people paranoid. That or insane and many angry. But they're mostly paranoid though."

"And you?" Phlox asked as he scanned the area Selak had mentioned, curiously enough finding the object he had been told about. The device had been implanted into the nervous system; it would be tricky but not impossible to do it. Selak would be in Sickbay recovering for a while, though.

"Paranoid? Damn straight. Angry, not any more. Not really… actually, I probably am more than I'll admit. But insane…" he laughed, Phlox not knowing why that would be funny. "Depends on who you talk to. Actually, my medical files say I am, but 'mentally fit enough to operate under the stressful conditions of war'. Load of bullshit is what it all is."

Phlox nodded. He had seen the effects of war; they weren't pretty. "Well, I think I can remove it, but it's embedded in your nervous system, it might take a while for you to recover."

"That's what I thought," he said, pulling something from his pant pocket. "This is a dermal regenerator, it heals the skin completely. And this will allow you to repair any damaged or severed nerves. They're very easy to operate."

Phlox looked down in awe at the devices, taking them from the Vulcan with curiosity. "Just remember I'll be erasing their existence from your memory in a little while."

"Of course. Should we start now?"

Selak nodded. "Yeah, let's get this over with."

**_Gwri Ship_******

"This ship is perfect. It's large and fast and has adequate weapons. Fic, this is what we've been looking for," Dan'At urged his uncle, practically begging the man as So'Fic put away the dishes they had used to eat.

"You are willing to attack the only ship that will give us aid, At?" So'Fic inquired, his voice cold, hard.

"They give us aid out of pity. With their ship, we can aid our own. Fic, do you think they would not do the same in our position?"

So'Fic regarded Dan'At closely, trying to decide what his true motives might be. He was a loyal officer, and his nephew, but he was a fool- he was young and inexperienced. Slowly, he made up his mind- his head deliberately shaking.

"No, At, it is not worth it. If they help us, it will be greater than any retribution you can imagine. We cannot be rash."

"And what if they cannot help. Our people have been trying to work on it for years. Decades. They have come up with _nothing_," the young man spat, fuming at his uncle's reluctance to do anything. He was an old man, he could not understand what Dan'At knew was right.

So'Fic sighed. What if they couldn't help? They were dying, that wouldn't change without help. But, resolved in his answer, he shook his head firmly. "No. You will do nothing to provoke them, At, do you understand?"

With a curt nod, Dan'At left, clearly fuming. So'Fic just sighed and shock his head. Dan'At may be a good officer but he was sometimes too eager to fight, even those who do not threaten him.

**_Enterprise, Sickbay_**

"How's it coming?" Archer asked as he escorted So'Fic into the Sickbay.

So'Fic, who had never entered the facility before, looked around in amazement at such a place on a starship before even noticing the doctors. He walked up to Ken'Ara, knowing full well what the half-frown on her face meant.

"I'm afraid we are getting nowhere. Dr. Phlox has added some interesting insights, but nothing more than that unfortunately," the Gwri announced sadly, looking to both ships' commanders as she spoke.

"Captain, this would take my entire life of complete attention to even start to find a cure. There simply is not enough time or the resources to do much anything else," Phlox admitted, his tone unusually defeated.

Archer sighed, he had truly hoped that Selak was wrong, that they would manage someway to change just that much of the timeline. But, perhaps, it just wasn't meant for these people to live.

But why? Why such a waste of talent and life? Why kill so many of these innocent people?

He looked hopelessly from Phlox, to Ken'Ara, then to So'Fic- somehow thinking it might suddenly inspire them to create the cure. But he had no such luck.

"Very well, Doctor, we tried. Trip and T'Pol won't have completed their installation of the weapon just yet, we might not have to leave for another day or two. It might possibly be worth while to continue your research, if of course the two of you are up to it."

Phlox just nodded obediently at his Captain, his eyes saddened with the grief of his defeat as he turned back to the console he had tirelessly worked at for the past few days.

"Fic… I'll stay here for a little while longer, then return to the ship," Ken'Ara told her Captain, the weight of her defeat showing.

Archer watched the sad exchanged, realizing that they spoke with more intimacy than he had noticed before; they sounded more like he and Trip then a Captain and his subordinate. Perhaps that was because they weren't a military ship, run with rules and regulations but, instead, refugees searching hopelessly for a cure to their certain death.

"Well, I should return to the ship. Thank-you, Dr. Phlox, for your effort," So'Fic said with a slight bow. Phlox just gave a small smile, matching the bow- he hadn't a clue what to say to a man who had just lost his last hope of life. Of survival…

**_Enterprise, T'Pol's Quarters_**

Trip let out a low moan, turning onto his side as he tried to get comfortable. Cracking his eyes opened, he was surprised to see… what? Something was definably wrong with the picture he was seeing. First off being that he wasn't in his room… definably not his room.

Suddenly, the events of the past few hours came rushing back to him. With a soft chuckle, he recalled why he felt so sore that morning. Collapsing back onto the bed, he sighed, closing his eyes again.

But a quiet noise kept managing to annoy him just enough to keep him away. With a groan, he turned back onto his side, reaching out to find… nothing. His eyes opened once again, Trip finally taking the time to look around himself. She was nowhere to be found.

Listening harder, the engineer finally realized what the noise was: the water to the shower was running. Pushing himself up, he hung his legs over the bed, allowing the pads of his feet to touch the floor. Standing, Trip draped the bed sheet around his waist, not entirely sure why he was covering himself.

Padding across the floor, he was surprised to find the door to her bathroom opened, the shower running, steam filling the room in a heavy fog. A smile settled on his lips as he leaned against the doorway.

Even inside the blurred, semi-translucent walls, Trip was still able to make out her body easily. To see the delicate curves of her well-toned body. Suddenly, the water stopped, T'Pol stepping out, Trip now able to see her more clearly.

Meeting her eye, he noticed that she looked shocked, but only for a moment. She wasn't angry with him, far from it. Trip looked away, knowing that the towels- or at least his- were right near the wall he was standing next to. But he never got the chance to even hand her one.

Her wet hand settled on his check, his neck turning so that he could look at her. Trip's hand halted immediately once he felt her lips against his. She seemed to melt against him, the warm water still glistening on her skin, getting Trip's own chest wet.

Her hand snaked around him, pulling off the sheet, simply allowing it to fall to the ground as she pulled Trip away from the door.

**_Gwri Ship_******

"How are Ken'Ara and the _Enterprise_'s doctor doing? Have they found a cure?"

So'Fic looked to his young nephew with a sad smile. "No further progress. I'm starting to loose hope that they can help us at all. Perhaps we have wasted enough of their time; we should move on somewhere else, leave these people to go on with their journey."

Dan'At scowled at his uncle when the man had turned his back to him. He couldn't believe that he would so easily disregard an opportunity to save them all. But then, he had already shot down his last plan. Not that that would stop him from bringing it up again.

"Fic, I have discussed the matter with the rest of the crew. Most believe that I am right; that my course of action is the best and only way," Dan'At informed his uncle.

So'Fic turned to regard his nephew, the younger Gwri standing with more arrogance than he had ever thought to associate with Dan'At. "What matter do you speak of?"

"The _Enterprise_."

"Not that foolish nonsense again. I have already told you it is not an option." With that, he turned away- no desirer to discuss is farther.

"I'm sorry you feel that way."

Before the older Gwri could turn to question the man's wording, he found himself dropping to the ground. His lungs burned and his trachea felt as if it had closed itself. Choking in air, he fought to breath, trying to get Dan'At to help him.

But his nephew just stood above him, watching with indifference as his uncle died. "I'm in charge now," he whispered, smiling as if insane. "Good-bye, Fic."

So'Fic tried to reach out to him, to grab him and stop him. To, in some insane way, help himself. But he only succeeded in falling onto his stomach, his eyes glazing over as unconsciousness took him.

**_Enterprise, Bridge_**

"Dan'At!" Archer greeted, a sad smile on his face.

"Our doctor has just returned, she reports that you are unable to create a cure for us."

"We're sorry, Dan'At, but it's not something that our doctor can help you with. At least not here with our limited resources. When we return home, there might be a way to help but-"

"By then we may all be dead," Dan'At complained. "Are you sure you cannot help us?"

"Not now."

"Then we have no more use for you," he said, turning away.

"What are you talking-"

"So'Fic is dead," he hissed, spinning around to see the Human Captain. "He was killed by my hand. The crew is loyal to me. I am Captain now. You're crew is no longer necessary to me and my people. You will stand down and allow us to board your ship, and we will spare your lives."

"We can't do that, Dan'At, and you know it," Archer retorted, now standing in front of the screen.

"Then I can't be held responsible for those who die." The screen went blank, switching to a view of space and the Gwri ship.

"Sir, weapons fire detected in Engineering and related decks!" Malcolm warned.

Archer ordered, sitting back down in his chair. If they wanted his ship, they weren't getting it easily. "Tactical Alert. Malcolm, get your teams and the MACOs down there."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you, Captain."

Archer nearly jumped at the voice, looking behind him, he found Malcolm pausing at the turbolift, looking around to make sure Dan'At wasn't on the Bridge.

"My men and I have taken over Engineering and the surrounding area. We have some of your men prisoner. If you try to send security down here, we will kill them. All of them."

"What do you want, Dan'At? Why are you doing this?" Archer hissed, looking at the Gwri on the large view screen.

Laughter ran out through the Bridge. Archer didn't find anything about Dan'At's situation amusing. "I thought that would be obvious. I want this ship. It's as simple as that. We'll let your crew have ours; or we can resettle you somewhere. I don't really care."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm quite serious, Captain," Dan'At retorted, a sick smile plastered over his features as he paced through Engineering. "You will give me control of your ship, or I will kill off your crew one by one…"

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

**__**

Um, again, not much to say. Just here to remind you to review (you know, that little button right there. Purple, kind of obvious. Oh that button! Yeah, now you know what it does). Don't for get that, other authors will be asking similar things of you.


	7. For Death and the Dying

Author's Note: Again, I'm sorry that I'm late posting but… well I forgot. And then I had a Civil War Re-enactment, so I had no access to a computer until… oh about an hour ago. And at that point showering was far more important to me. No offence to you all…

Well, anyway, you have your chapter (you have two chapters). Once again, enjoy the chapter and please R/R, please don't hold my tardiness against me.

Summary: With Dan'At in control of the ship, will the crew be able to take it back? And what will it cost to do it?

**__**

**Through Fire:** **For Death and the Dying**

"You will give me control of your ship, or I will kill off your crew one by one…"

"You wouldn-"

"I will," he said, pulling off his glove deliberately slowly. "You know, every day I wake and wonder, who died in the night? How many crewmen- how many friends- will I discover died that night? That morning. How many of the people I work with that day will die? Will I? Do you know how that feels?"

"I can imagine," Archer tried to say, only to be cut off by Dan'At.

"No, no I don't think you can. But I'm going to show you. Look around this room, Captain. We have at least twenty of your officers. One of them is about to be condemned to death," he said, gesturing with his bare hand to the Engineers seated on the floor. They were all visibly tense- some for themselves, most for their friends.

"Which shall it be? The Chief Engineer?" He asked, stepping towards Trip, looking over at Archer's reaction. Trip was his best friend, a good friend and officer. "No… no, not yet. Or this one; the quiet one." Archer followed his gaze to find Selak at the receiving end. He may not know the young man well, but he did respect him. The Vulcan just starred back at Dan'At, impassively. He had face death too many times to really care.

"No. It wouldn't be any fun. How about her? Or him? Or that one?" Archer's eyes followed each jerk, each gesture, as Dan'At picked out his target. Flinching as he looked at one of his officers. He knew them all, some better than others. All were good officers; all were loyal, they just wanted to save their planet. They had nothing to do with Dan'At's twisted revenge.

But then the man stopped, smiling down at one of the Engineers. Kneeling, Archer was able to see that it was Lieutenant Clark. She had been with them since the beginning, served under Trip and Archer since their mission to Kronos.

Dan'At's bare hand rose, reaching up to touch her face. Even from the view screen, Archer could see her flinch; the rumors and gossip had gotten around quickly at who these people were. She knew quite well that she would die if he touched her.

Carefully, the Gwri pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, his hand just brushing her pale skin. The man looked at her, easily seeing the fear in her eyes. "I am truly sorry." With that, his hand stroked her cheek.

He stood quickly, looking away from the officer, Lieutenant Clark near tears in fear. She seemed to already have trouble breathing- that or she was just nervous and afraid.

Archer starred, half-impassively, half-shocked at what he had just witnessed. "It is your fault, Captain Archer. I already said I am not responsible for those who die. You are. You drove me to this. When she dies, it was your fault."

"I didn't give her a disease. _You_ did," Archer hissed, now showing his anger.

Dan'At just shock his head. "You made me. Now, call back your people. Tell them to stand down and give up your ship. I will ask this one last time."

Archer looked over the people under guard. He couldn't just let them die; he couldn't allow Dan'At to kill off his people to be one by one. He needed a plan; he needed to figure something out.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Captain. You've run out of thinking time. I need an answer."

"Fine, fine. I'll tell my men to stand down."

Dan'At smiled. "Very good, Captain. Very good. But I'm afraid, you're reluctance means two more will die. And, if you do now make good on your word… I will kill more."

Archer gawked at the man: he couldn't be serious. He couldn't be that heartless. "Which will it be this time, Captain? It is your choice. You pick who dies."

Archer starred at him in disgust. He couldn't pick a man to die at random if it was a Xindi, much less one of his own crew. And now he was being asked to do just that… only twice.

Dan'At smiled at his opened mouth and reluctance to speak. "Can't decide. Oh, well. I'll do it for you."

Again, he surveyed those around him, picking out his prey, jokingly teasing the Captain as he decided. Kneeling next to two men, he looked at them more closely. Reaching out his hand, the first tensed, trying to move away from him only to find his back against the wall. Dan'At stroked his cheek, quickly turning to the man next to him, touching him and standing.

Turning to look at Archer, he spat, "You have one hour to order your men to stand down and go to the cargo bay. My men will guard the entrance. Don't try anything; you won't succeed."

Archer wasn't given time to answer before the screen went blank…

-----Enterprise, Deck 5-----

Malcolm watched from the Jeffries Tube as officers walked in groups toward the Cargo Bay. The Captain was trying to appease Dan'At… to a point. Only a few MACOs and Security Officers would be going there, none of the bridge crew was.

They'd pretend to cooperate, of course, but Malcolm and his team had been ordered to attack the corridors just outside Engineering, moving in to take out Dan'At himself. If all went well, they would easily retake control of the ship.

The only problem was… plans rarely went according to plan. Almost never.

But, he could hope. He had to hope it would work or all those lives in Engineering were lost. Three already were.

Malcolm sighed, there were the last of the bunch he had been assigned to watch. They were on their way and he had to be on his. Turning around, he crawled into the tube, followed closely by one of his men and a MACO.

'Well, here goes nothing'.

-----Enterprise, Engineering-----

Dan'At watched with a scowl as his men pulled the three Starfleet officers away from the others. It wasn't as if he really cared if they all got infected, he just… well, he really didn't know why he was bothering. Perhaps to make them more comfortable, all of them not just the dying.

But that was the thing, they were already dying. Well, so was he, just very slowly. They were going very quickly. Already their lungs were filling with blood. Already they were gasping for air that, soon, they wouldn't be able to get. Very soon he would find himself with three dead bodies. And, no matter what he had said to Archer, he was still responsible.

He hadn't expected this. For Humans to be so… receptive. So fragile. To die so quickly. He had hoped that they would go slowly, suffer with the knowledge that they would die, that they would be isolated from their people to protect the others. To know that, one day, they would suddenly die.

Or at least to have them die slowly in his presence. He had hoped to mock them, to see their fear as they realized the end of their lives was soon. But, no. Instead he looked at them and saw himself. Saw his mother and father. Saw all his friends that had gone before him. All those that will go before long. He couldn't even speak to them.

What had he done? He just killed three people… and for what? For fun? He killed his uncle. For what? Why? Because he hadn't boarded a ship that had taken its time in a futile effort to save them?

What was wrong with him?

His gaze roamed over the room, falling on the quiet, young man. He seemed much more calm than the others. He gave them all credit- they were professional, hiding their nervousness and fears. But him, that man was like a blank slate. He said nothing, did nothing. He just starred very calmly at the wall.

He had seen him once before when he came to the ship. The young man had such old eyes. Such an old soul. It made him curious. He wanted to know more about the man. That could be his fun. If he couldn't make himself taunt the dying crewmen, then he would have his fun with the young man. It could prove interesting.

He looked back down at the knife he held in his hand. He sighed, it was true he only used it for rituals, but he could make an exception if he wanted. A wicked smile grew over his face, his only thought, 'Yes, truly interesting.'

-----Enterprise, Deck 8-----

Malcolm watched through the small slits in the cover. He nearly smiled when they had bypassed their hideout for the fifth time. These guys definably weren't professionals; in fact they had little idea of what they were doing at all. All the better for Malcolm. They'd never expect Malcolm and his team.

Silently, Malcolm gestured for the MACO to move to the next exit where he could easily take out the third man. He nodded, crawling away without making a sound.

His gaze switched from the retreating man to the three Gwri outside. Mostly they just stood there, guarding the corridor. If they could get through them, they could easily get to Engineering. And getting through them, at that moment, was looking pretty easy.

Holding up his hand, he showed three fingers, making sure that both Sergeant Anthony and Ensign Matthews could see. He counted down, putting down one finger, then the second. His last finger went down, simultaneously he mouthed "GO!".

The Sergeant kicked open the door, drawling the attention of the Gwri. Malcolm heard his phase rifle fire and one of the aliens grunt in surprise and pain.

Taking that as his cue, Malcolm kicked open the grate in front of him, rolling out and firing up at the Gwri, all of whom turned in shock. He watched as he hit one of the alien's square in the chest as he rolled into the wall for cover.

But nothing happened to the alien, he just stood straighter and started firing at them. The Brit stared in surprise, glancing over at Matthews who had met a similar problem. Anthony, unfortunately, was having a tougher time considering he had nowhere to hide. Almost immediately he was shot, knocked unconscious… or dead.

Malcolm looked away, trying not to dwell on it. Looking them over, Malcolm remembered something he and Selak had talked about. Their scales kept them protected from many weapons… but they didn't have any on their stomachs.

Aiming lower, he hit the first in his navel. The alien doubled over, falling to the ground. Seeing what he did, Matthews shot the second, this time having better success as the Gwri crumpled over, stunned. But, before either could fire at the third, he ducked behind the bulkhead, firing at them.

Malcolm barely noticed Matthews fall into him as he dodged the shots. For a moment, Malcolm was pinned down by the alien's weapon fire. He wasn't even able to move without the Gwri firing at him.

Looking over at where Anthony had fallen, he noticed- with a shock- that the body wasn't there anymore. Looking quickly around, he couldn't find the MACO anywhere. It wasn't until he heard a loud shout that he saw him.

Grabbing the Gwri's weapon, Anthony was trying to disarm him, kicking the alien hard in the stomach in the process. Malcolm took his chance, aiming carefully at the Gwri's side. With a soft grunt, the alien went limp, falling to the ground as Anthony let him go.

Malcolm sighed, straightening. "Come on, let's get out of here."

-----Enterprise, Engineering-----

"Your species is different from the others."

Selak looked up at the Gwri, having trouble seeing him from his position on the ground. Around him, seven armed guards were patrolling the area, some guarding the doors. Dan'At himself had been keeping an eye on the small Engineering team that they had taken prisoner.

"What are you called?" Selak said nothing, mostly satisfying an uncontrollable impulse to not answer questions even of such a simple content. "Quiet are we? I asked you a question, you will answer." When he didn't, he received a swift kick in the side, luckily it was his uninjured side.

With hardly even a flinched, Selak looked away from the Gwri, knowing it would probably anger him more.

"Remove your shirt."

Selak's head snapped around to look at Dan'At from his spot on the ground. He knew that, to a Gwri, it was a revealing request. They were a very modest people, mostly only exposing their feet, hands, and neck and head. To remove an article of clothing was embarrassing and not publicly done.

He starred up at Dan'At, trying to find his motive. When he didn't find one, he couldn't help but become more confused and reluctant to do as he said. Not only for that, but for reasons of a more personal nature, something he wished his audience not to know.

"Disrobe." This time Dan'At's voice was harsh, more forceful… more dangerous. But it was nothing Selak hadn't been through before. After only a moment of though, Selak gave up. There was no reason, none noticeable, to ignore him.

Slowly, almost menacingly, he stood. Selak's eyes never wavered from Dan'At, never broke contact with the man, as his body straightened. Slowly, he drew his body to full height, only for the purpose of intimidating the young man, for he stood an inch or so taller than him.

"Selak, ya don't have to do this," Trip protested, trying to stand and pull him back down, though he knew it was unwise.

But Dan'At's shoe caught him in the chest, knocking him to the ground, out of breath. "Stay down."

"Please, Commander, I am hardly a stranger to pain and humiliation." Selak's hand reached up to his left shoulder as he spoke. Without looking, he quickly unstrapped the buckles, letting the material fold over slightly. Then he moved to undo the other two, those under his arm.

The chest of his jacket slipped away, leaving little, but some, skin showing. With a simple shake of his shoulders and the help of his hands, Selak pulled off the leather-like material, letting it fall to the ground at his feet.

Trip watched in anticipation, having rightened himself and caught his breath by then. He waited for something to happen, anything. He waited for Selak to lash out or to cease the game Dan'At had began. For Dan'At to hit him- to do something, to explain himself. To use the knife he was so fondly eyeing earlier… the one he still hung on his belt.

But nothing happened…

Trip looked at Selak's face, calm and composed as any Vulcan might look. He took off his shirt as easily and indifferently as Trip might take off his socks in the privacy of his own room. But then, he knew nothing about what Vulcan's thought about nudity- what the future thought of it. Perhaps, to Selak, it was as simple as taking off a pair of socks.

Trip's eyes moved to Dan'At. He just stood there, starring at Selak as if he would explode at any moment. Trip turned away, focusing, instead, on Selak. From his spot on the floor, his eye quickly caught a thick scar on the Vulcan's left bicep. It wasn't too long but the look of it was enough for Trip to decide that it must have hurt like hell when he got it.

His eyes moved away, looking at his chest- gently rising and falling in a slow, rhythmic pattern. He had no fear of this man, no shame in his partial-nudity. He just stood there as stiffly and rigidly as he would if an Admiral had merely asked him to stand at attention.

That was when he noticed the thick, black design- a tattoo- drawn on his left pectoral. Trip's eyes took it in, following the lines and loops creating the pattern. A familiar pattern- one Trip vaguely recognized, but couldn't remember where he had seen it before.

His attention was soon caught by many other things- most much more prominent than the simple scar on his arm. He could see many other, similar scars on his stomach and chest as the one on his bicep. He counted at least twenty, if not more.

Large welts distorted his back, the skin marked and scared in V-like shapes. Old burns were evident, discoloration in some places- a darker or lighter green than the bronze of his skin. Even his chest- from what Trip could see- had similar discoloration, old burns healed to noticeable scars.

Trip's eyes moved up, trying to get his attention, but Selak's eyes had never faltered from Dan'At's harsh face, cold yet shocked by what he saw. Trip- giving up on that endeavor- glanced over his body, taking in the many physical scars he had- it barely went to tell about the extent of the mental and emotional scars he had. No wonder his eyes had looked so haunted when he returned. He was no longer trying to suppress the memories, the emotions, and the pain from them anymore.

"You… you were a prisoner of the Amocku?" Trip's head shot over to look at Dan'At, in his confusion he missed the amusement in the Gwri's voice.

"I was." Selak, however, did not. He may have been annoyed at him pointing out such a fact but it hardly bothered him, he had come to peace with his demons on that subject long ago.

"Apparently you weren't a very good one- that, or obedient." Dan'At's taunt went heard, but ignored, by Selak. Trip, on the other hand, was ready to jump up and strangle the man, knowing, though, that it would be futile. "But I've never heard of a master who… punishes _his_ slaves in such a manner."

"My _master_ actually _liked_ me. He barely laid a hand on me much less did this."

"Really? Then how do you explain these?" Dan'At's hand gestured to the marks covering his body.

Trip looked at the Vulcan, curious. He wanted to know, unlike Dan'At, who just wanted to torment him. Trip could see Selak's face; it fell as his eyes starred off. He had lost the cocky gleam in his eyes that he had held since he came back, a look Trip wouldn't have dared challenge.

And, as soon as it had disappeared, it returned. A smile grew, stretching the corners of his mouth in an almost show of resilience.

"Most I got when I fought as a gladiator. The rest…" Selak shrugged, letting his blunt words sink in. In that moment, when he saw that Dan'At was most confused- shocked and sorry- he moved, using his vulnerability to his advantage.

In the blink of an eye- quite literally- Selak grabbed Dan'At's knife from its place on his belt. In a single fluent motion, he moved around Dan'At.

Trip watched in near shock, fearing his sight- or sanity- as he saw the scene play out in front of him. Selak almost seemed to move in fast forward, a blurred shadow left behind him as he went. Before Trip could even take two breaths, Selak was behind Dan'At, who was kneeling with his arms pulled tightly behind him, the knife pushing dangerously against his trachea.

"I wouldn't move if I were you!" Selak yelled, warning the guards more than Dan'At. Pulling Dan'At around, as if displaying him to the seven guards, he continued.

"Just breathing may accidentally cause me to slit your throat. And, trust me, my days in the arena taught me how to kill without caring- without thought to who's blood I had on my hands that day."

Trip listened to the Vulcan, a young man he had learned to call friend. But this was a side of him he had never seen, a side everyone had the capacity for. The side that was dangerous, cold, and deadly. A side that could be pushed forward if needed or when forced. But Trip had a feeling that it had been both for Selak.

"Commander, their weapons."

Trip stood, his legs stiff from the hours he had sat still, and took the others' weapons, guns and knifes, after tossing out a sarcastic, "Gladly."

-----Enterprise, Outside Engineering-----

Malcolm peaked around the corner, trying to get a look at the guards at the door. He sighed; this seemed too easy. First of all, there had only been three Gwri watching the corridor, and another three in the other corridor, which Ensign Douglas reported had been neutralized quickly. All six of which had little to no training.

And now he stood hiding from two Gwri- probably equally untrained- and about to attack with six men. 'This is just too easy! Something must be wrong. Where was everyone else?' his mind screamed even as gestured for Anthony to moved closer, his position allowing him a better shot.

With a shrug, he prayed that Dan'At was just playing them, pretending to have twice the power and men than he truly did. Taking a deep breath, he hoped that their stillness and ignorance of their presence as a good thing.

Malcolm took aim, his target being the dead center of the first Gwri's stomach. Without a sound, both Gwri crumpled over from Anthony and Malcolm's phasers. He just shrugged, shaking his head as he stepped out of his hiding spot. The Brit half expected a dozen more to jump out at him.

"Matthews, tie them together," he whispered as Douglas and two other MACOs joined them at the door to Engineering. Waiting a minute to see that the Gwri were securely fastened, Malcolm punched the release to the door, all six of them charging in, guns up and ready to fire.

"Hey, Mal! Good of you to finally join us."

Malcolm's phaser-rifle lowered in shock as he took in the scene in front of him. Half a dozen of Trip's Engineers were surrounding the Gwri, Dan'At included, with their weapons as a few others seemed to be tending to three others- Malcolm assumed they were the infected officers. By the looks of them, they would be dead soon.

"We thought since you were running late, that we'd handle the inside," Selak teased, sauntering up to the security team, pausing next to where Trip stood.

Malcolm's eyes glanced over his half exposed chest, but decided against inquiring about it. In truth, he didn't want to know. "What about those guards out front? Why didn't you _handle _them?"

Trip glanced over at Selak, who laughed out loud at the comment. Then the Vulcan told the security chief, "We're not security, it's not our job. Besides, they didn't hear us, we didn't feel it was our business to bother them."

The Lieutenant nodded with a small smile- this was one story to tell. "Give them a hand, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir."

"We need to talk, Trip." The Engineer nodded, walking with his friend, as the other five dispersed to take over the Gwri prisoners. "What happened here?"

"Well… I'm not exactly sure. One minute Selak was standing in front of Dan'At, the next he was holding him in a headlock with Dan'At's knife to his throat. Then the rest of 'em just… gave up. So-"

"You took their weapons and held them hostage."

"Pretty much. We were going to check things out outside; we just hadn't gotten to that. Then you came charging in… so I would assume we don't have to."

"No. Actually, this was all a little too easy. I keep expecting to either wake up or fine myself swarmed with Gwri," the Lieutenant said with a nervous glance.

"Calm down, Mal. It's handled. We, um, should get the doc down here," he said, looking remorsefully at the three officers on the ground. "You know, there was no point to give any of them that damn virus. None at all."

"I know, Trip. I saw it. I'll get someone to get the doctor and take out the last of the guards."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, um, we left some of them stunned and tied up in the corridors. A few others are guarding the entire crew, besides those here, in the Cargo Bay," he explained, taking a second look around to see some of the engineers go back to work as his men tied up the Gwri.

"Right. You should… take care of that."

"Yeah." Turning away, he went to leave the room. "Trip?"

"Yes?" Trip turned only to find Malcolm looking solemnly at him.

"I'm sorry about your men. I know how close you are to all of them."

"Thanks, Malcolm."

-----Enterprise, Archer's Quarters-----

"Captain's Log, January 17, 2154.

"After spending two days dropping the Gwri off at a planet of their choosing, Ken'Ara assured me that things will be looked after and that Dan'At's attempted at subduing another ship will not happen.

"As for the three crewmen he transmitted the disease to… they all died as of yesterday. It seems that the effect on humans is more rapid than that of the Gwri. Their deaths were… quite horrible and… painful but the doctor had them sedated the entire time. Their bodies will be ejected as soon as possible to kept the disease from spreading to the rest of the crew."

Archer paused, petting his dog fondly as he regained his composure. He just couldn't believe how effortlessly that man had killed those three. Had condemned them to die just as he and the rest of his ship were. That he would be so heartless.

"Selak has supplied us with the coordinates we need to find the Xindi homeworld and Trip and T'Pol both believe that the weapon is online and functional. Hopefully it will work. With the technology we have, we should be able to prove to them our good intensions. Either way, this isn't over yet. But I don't plan on losing to them, not after everything we've been through."

-----Enterprise, Sickbay-----

"Doctor."

"Ah! Selak, what-" he paused mid-sentence, seeing the solemn look in the young man's eyes.

"I think you know why I'm here. Please, just help me and it'll go faster."

The Doctor nodded. He may not like having such a thing just easily deleted from the computer, to have his files altered and changed from something he still didn't really understand- and wasn't entirely certain he believed. Not to mention that he had promised Ken'Ara that he would continue his work on their disease.

"Are you sure about this?"

"More than anything. It has to be done, I'm sorry. I know you would have liked to try and help them but… it wouldn't have changed anything. They died; all but a handful of them. If it helps, you did take this with you. You worked on it for years, passed it on to a few others to work on. No one did anything; nothing came out of it. I'm sorry. But I have to do this."

Again, Phlox just nodded, his posture showing his defeat. "Must you still change what happened to those crewmen?"

Selak looked up from the console. "Yes, if you think its anything more than just radiation, then you might want to look it over or something. Besides, they'll stay in isolation and be shot into space before you can do anything about it."

"I will be lying to their parents about what happened," he protested.

"For one, you won't realize you're lying once you have time to write a report and, two, you won't have to write it."

"It's still a lie. They died thousands of light-years away from their home; their parents haven't seen them in a year. They deserve at least that."

"They deserve what, Doctor?" Phlox blinked in surprise; he had never heard such venom in anyone's voice, much less one of Vulcan origin. "They deserve to know that their sons and daughter died because they happened upon an angry, idiotic man? That they died because of some virus that was supposed to make us give up the ship?

"Doctor, I know a lot about pointless death. I've seen it a lot- committed a lot. They died for nothing on a mission to save their planet. Nothing; not even that cause." Selak turned away, as if to stop talking. But he continued without looking at the doctor.

"I killed a man, once… I killed him when I didn't have to. He was weak, hungry- starving really. He wouldn't have lasted much longer where he was. I had the choice to let him live… a week, maybe. Two if he was lucky. That was all he had left. A pointless death; he shouldn't have died at all. He shouldn't have been in that position at all."

Phlox was silent. As far as he knew, Selak had only spoken about himself to the Captain and senior staff about who he really was. He doubted anyone ever heard anything much more personal than that, and now he was hearing something that the young Vulcan had to live with every day of his life- and this seemed to be one of the smaller burdens on his small shoulders.

"At least, Doctor, what you will be telling them had some honor to it. They died, now, from radiation poisoning as they sealed a leaking plasma relay. They saved the ship, doctor… they saved Earth… they sacrificed their lives to save their world… their families. That's what everyone will remember. Not a virus that a bunch of aliens who attacked the ship had. They died with honor… that's not something you hear about much in my time."

-----Enterprise, Captain's Ready Room-----

Archer sighed as he ducked under a beam. Pacing his Ready Room seemed to only help his aggravation rather than relieve it. He sighed a second time, looking down at the computer as it shuffled through the database.

He had told the crew the computer was being cleaned out and organized to compensate for the information they had found while in the Expanse, which meant no personal logs for a few days. But, the truth of the matter was, Selak was going through everything, rewriting and phrasing everything to fit what was "supposed" to happen.

Though Selak was currently working in Engineering to fix some last minutes things, his computer was almost finished changing things to match what history was to believe happened. Change everything so that Selak didn't exist, so that certain events never happened. So that certain things were never encountered.

Selak would be leaving soon, he had already informed Archer of that. Which meant very soon, the Captain wouldn't remember a thing about this young man. Archer had to admit, the Vulcan might be… well, odd and Vulcan but he still like him. Archer was still intrigued by what he was doing and who he was.

But that didn't stop the fact that he couldn't exist, that Archer was going to forget who he was and what he did. What he accomplished. He was tempted to record what he knew and remembered on a PADD and hide it somewhere so that he could, at least, remember. But he knew he couldn't.

At least Selak would know what happened. What he did. And his superiors would know as well, Archer presumed. At least, at some point, people would know what _really_ happened.

Selak didn't seem too uncomfortable with the ideal that, what he did, will never be remembered. That, in a way, he'd never be known as much more than an officer fighting in the same war as everyone else. He'd probably never be known for his part in helping to save so many lives. For his time traveling.

But, somehow, Archer had a feeling that that was the way he liked it. He liked the more private, self-satisfying life. He wished all the best for the young man; hoped that what he had done was worthwhile.

Archer turned, still pacing his ready room. With another sighed, he debated whether or not to return to the Bridge. But, before he reached an answer, the ship jerked suddenly, sending him into the bulkhead.

Pushing himself onto his feet, the comm. activated, Hoshi informing him that an anomaly had hit the ship.

"I'm on my way," he mumbled into the comm., forcing himself to walk all the while his head screaming for the room to stop moving. He wasn't entirely certain if it really was or if it was just his head throbbing that was causing the room to shake.

"What happened?"

"We appear to have encountered a large area of anomalies. We are surrounded by them," T'Pol reported, her usual calm unfazed by the continued shaking of the ship.

"Travis, can you get us out of here?"

"I'm trying, sir, but the impulse engines are malfunctioning!"

Hitting the comm. on his armrest, Archer asked, "Trip, what's going on down there?"

-----Enterprise, Engineering-----

"We're getting hit pretty hard down here, Cap'n," Trip reported, practically shouting over all the noise.

_"We need impulse engines now, Trip,"_ Archer ordered.

Trip grabbed the wall, trying to brace himself as the ship shook once again. "We're trying, Cap'n. Tucker out."

The ship shook once again, sending Trip on his back. With a grunt, he pushed himself back up, trying to walk and grab onto something at the same time. "Romano! Cortez! You're with me. Come on!"

Trip walked on, two of his engineers following as they worked their way to the impulse engines. Selak fell-into the gaggle, recalling something he had nearly forgotten- something that had screwed many things up before.

"Selak, I need you to monitor the plasma intact. If it spikes to high while we're in the anomalies, we'll all be dead!" Trip ordered, trying to brush off the Vulcan.

"Cortez, you do that."

The young Ensign looked first to Trip, waiting to see if the order was accepted. When he saw Trip's slight nod, he ran off, trying to keep his balance as he went.

"What are you doing, Selak?"

"Nothing. I want to help."

"You could have-"

"Trip! Look out!"

Trip suddenly found himself on the floor, barely recalling that Selak had pushed him there. Looking up, he saw that one of the bulkheads had been broken loose from the anomaly and fallen directly where he had stood only a moment ago.

Looking around, he saw Romano wobbly raising to his feet, obviously disoriented from hitting his head, a long gash showing where. Looking over on the other side of the debris, he couldn't see Selak- lying or standing.

"Selak!" He yelled before he could stop himself. A feeling of dread and worry washed over him. Where had he gone?

Just then, he noticed a figure barely half under the bulkhead. Rushing over, he gestured for Romano to help him lift the metal. "Quickly, go fix the impulse engines. I have to get him to Sickbay."

"Yes, sir." Romano promptly ran off, leaving Trip with the Vulcan.

"Selak?" The Vulcan barely felt the Commander's hand slip into his as the man slid closer to him. He could hardly feel anything. Selak could just imagine the pain that should be ripping through his body; the pain he should be in.

"Selak can you hear me?"

"Hear? Sure," he breathed, his chest barely able to move under the invisible strain as his eyes slipped open.

"Come on, let's get you to Phlox."

"No."

"You're injured, we-"

"Trip, there's a… hunk of debris… lodged in my back… I can't… feel anything below… my neck…"

Selak couldn't contain his smirk at the sight of Trip's devastated look. Though his eye lost their spark of hope and determination, his arms still reached out to grab the Vulcan, ready to pull him off the floor, as he told him, "You can't give up that easily. Com'on. We can get you to Phlox, you'll be alright."

"No, you don't understand. Just… in my pocket… the upper right…"

"This one?" Unzipping it for him, Trip was surprised to find what he did. "What is this?" He asked about the tiny computer he held in his hand

"Push… the… side… button…"

"Why-"

"Just… do it," he ordered. His slight nod was confused at best but an agreement. "Thank-you."

"For this?"

"No… Thanks to you… thanks to… your great-grandson… my life doesn't suck that much. Trust me… other side."

Trip may not have understood his comment but he did as his friend wanted. As he watched, his bewilderment turned into complete shock as the Vulcan disappeared before his eyes. The device itself dissolving, simultaneously, in his hand.

His brow furrowed, his mind searching back to what he was doing on the floor… to why he was in that particular position. Sparks flew from the console next to him, orders shouted out filled the room. Trip shrugged off his confusion, standing up and walking away to help fix his ship.

-----Unknown-----

Slowly, gently, Selak's eyes cracked open. Bright white light stung his eyes, making them water slightly as his pupils quickly tried to adjust.

On impulse, he tried to bring up his hand to shield his face and to brush away the moisture. But, when he tried, his arm wouldn't move. With a sudden start, he realized that his entire body felt numb, felt gone… disconnected.

"Don't try to move; the doctors say all your nerves aren't fully healed yet."

Without moving his head, he could see the form of a man to his left. Hovering over top of him, the man smiled, obviously glad to see his good friend awake and alert.

"Did it work?" he croaked out, his voice hoarse from days of no water and not talking.

"Yes, it worked. Don't worry about that," the man told him, seating himself on the chair where Selak could still see him.

"How long have I been out?"

"Two days while your nerves regenerated."

"The weapon?"

Though hesitant to talk about his mission, he responded, "Never created."

"The war?"

"For the past week they've been negotiating a treaty."

"It's over?"

"It's over."

His nod was slight, barely there, but it was still a nod. A grateful nod. His eyes slide shut from exhaustion, but, just before he managed to think about falling back to sleep, his companion spoke, his deep voice able to hold his attention.

"When the doctors examined you, um, they saw that the… that the chip… was removed. Did you know that?"

Selak turned his head, very slightly, to the side, looking up at his good friend. "Yes, I had a feeling it would be necessary. I guess I was right."

"You… you did that whole…?"

"Speed-walking, Tylus. It's called speed-walking. It felt so good… not in the way you thought it would, but… I don't know. The way it should feel, I guess. It felt right."

"Did you… you didn't…?"

"No, Tylus, I didn't. I couldn't, I guess. But I thought about it. It would have been easier, I guess. But, then, so could a lot of things about that whole adventure."

Tylus only nodded, understanding, while not understanding, his complex friend. He looked away, down at his hands, assuming that the tired Vulcan would fall asleep. But he didn't…

A tiny chuckle came from his lips. "You know, there never was an Ensign Glenn."

"Sorry?"

"I thought it was too convenient."

"I'm not following. What about Ensign Glenn?"

"Before I left, Tylus, I memorized the crew manifest and what happened to them. Ensign Glenn was assigned to _Enterprise_ as a replacement engineer before they left for the Expanse. He died from being blown out into space… the same day I planned to leave."

"Interesting coincidence," Tylus commented.

"Not really. Convenient, was what it was. When I got there, eight months into their mission, there was no Ensign Glenn on the manifest… he wasn't supposed to die for another two months. But he wasn't there."

"So, what are you saying?"

"That I was the one who created him in the first place."

"A predestination paradox. You're crazy!"

"It's possible."

"How do you know?"

"That was exactly what I was going to use for… well, me when I left. Some Ensign assigned to engineering before they left who was spaced the day I left… that was the day he was supposed to die. That day."

"How can you know for sure?"

"His name was Alex Glenn."

"Yeah? And?"

"Alex was one of my few friends at the Academy I remember… one of the few still alive. I think… maybe… And Glenn, he's my cousin. He, my brother, and I were always very close. Glenn and I joined the Academy together- he died during the Battle of Betazed, protecting his home."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah. He was an Ensign, just like Alex is… or, was. If I were to use any name, that would be it," Selak confirmed.

"Alright, so let's assume here, for a minute, that you're right and this was a predestination paradox, what messed it up so much when you came back?"

"The first time? It was too soon. I hadn't gotten the second part of the weapon and… and my fifth objective was screwed."

"Fifth objective?"

Ignoring his question, Selak continued through his inquiry. "With the second weapon in their database, the scientists had enough to work with. They still upset the others and throw us just as far into a worse war as the other bioweapon did. Only, this time, there was no Ryan to stop them. Which also meant no you, which was why I was such a spas."

"Why?"

Looking up at his friend, he told him, "Well, you helped me-"

"Not that," Tylus interrupted. "Why was there no me?"

For a moment, Selak thought of shrugging, only realizing when he tried that it didn't work. "I got this hunk of metal in my back to keep Trip from dying. Without me there, Trip died. Three weeks later, T'Pol discovered that she was pregnant with his child… she aborted the baby…"

"And the Tucker line never would have existed. I would never have existed," Tylus realized, trying to imagine what a simple adjustment could do everything- what his friend had to be so careful about in his traveling.

"And neither would your brother. No diplomat, no treaty, no end to the war. Or, at least, a cease-fire. But, with Trip alive and the baby born, you two are born, no weapon was created, and life isn't so bad."

"This war's never going to end," was his only remark.

"Don't be such a pessimist. I have faith in Ryan… if anyone can do this, he can…"

**_The End_**

You can pretty much assume things happen pretty well into how they happened on the real series. You know, a few things slightly altered for obvious reasons but whatever…

Well… and that'd be the end. All done… no more…

Except a bonus chapter! Don't you feel special now?

Um, if you hadn't notice- which would be really hard- there are a few spots within the story that Selak either has "dreams" or flashbacks and two scenes (in the very beginning and end) where you see a bit of his past and present. Um, an interesting story about that. I started writing them, just random things that I decided to splice up and put here and there. But then I was having so much fun coming up with the character that I began to write little stories that went around everything in those dreams. Then I decided to write some more stuff to connect some of it, then I had to actually create his past because… well I was having a lot of fun.

The poor kid, I really had too much fun on his expense.

Since I wrote it all, I thought it'd be fun to let you all read it for yourselves and see why some of what went on in his head… went on in his head. Um, it's all about him and what happened, nothing of _Enterprise_ or anything. So if you enjoyed Selak's character- or just don't want the story to end- you can go ahead and read it. I'll warn you though, it's a very long chapter. About forty pages (I'll admit to having a wee bit of fun).

Anyway, go on… give it a shot. You know, if you read it, then you can review twice in one day! Isn't that exciting?

Either way, I want to thank you all for reading this story and putting up with me and my story and reviewing and so forth. Thank-you all! Love ya!


	8. For Life and Loyalty

**_/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/ For Life and Loyalty /-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/_**

The young Ensign stood in the lush garden, finding himself at peace among the many beautiful fragrances and large trees. Looking down at the Chinese garden, he could almost imagine himself an innocent cadet starring at one in his off hours, observing one with a curiosity he lost years before.

He sighed; watching sand wasn't something he was all too interested in. Gingerly, he pushed himself off of the large rock he had been using as a chair. With a wince, he rubbed his left side, all too aware of how easily it could be disturbed- he feared the pain might never leave, at least not the mental pain.

Slowly, he walked along the pathway; not minding the large leaves of a Betazoid plant hitting his face. Reaching up to itch his cheek, it took him a moment to register that the smooth, clean-shaven skin was indeed his.

After returning, he had been forced to shave the long, gritty beard that had grown; it seemed to reduce his age back to what it really was, rather than what he felt it was. Although he knew a beard wasn't as charming on his face, it did manage to hide the large scar his left cheek bore and his pale, gaunt skin. It would be a while, he knew, before his skin regained its old golden bronze complexion.

Looking up at the sky, he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the sun on his face; smiling as the light breeze whipped across his cheeks, disturbing his combed hair. A full stomach, a rested mind and body, the sun and fresh air: it was all he had ever dreamed of in the past years. But then, why wasn't it as exciting as he had thought it would be?

Perhaps it was the cost to get those things back.

"Ensign? Ensign Evans?" The Ensign turned to see a blonde security officer walking up the pathway. Waiting expectantly for a reason at being interrupted, he wasn't let down. "You're presence is requested."

The Ensign's first instinct would have been to ask by whom, but he refrained. He knew full well whom and why; his life for the past three years had taught him not to ask stupid questions. Without question or protest, he followed the man out of the garden and into the real reality of Earth.

Stepping inside behind the security office, he was lead down distantly familiar halls- the dullness of the standard walls leaving the corridor to seem almost completely indistinguishable from the last.

Suddenly, the officer stopped. Hitting the release on the door in front of him, he entered without a word to the Ensign. Looking down the hall, he sighed, and followed the man in just in time to hear his low voice announce, "Ensign Selak Evans, sirs."

With a nod from one of the five officers sitting at the long table on the other end of the room, the security officer left, leaving Selak alone with the five of them.

"Please, sit." Selak looked at the bland chair positioned in the center of the room. He shook his head, carefully lowering himself into the seat. Looking up at the panel of officers- two Captains and three Admirals- he found that his position gave them an ominous feel.

Squaring his shoulders and straightening his back, he looked straight at the female, who sat in the center, and waited for her to address him again.

"I am Admiral Richards. This is Captain Henrick-" she pointed to a younger man on her left- "Admiral Harnak-" a man farthest on her left- "Captain Yearwood-" a woman on her right- "And Admiral Sierra-" she pointed to the man on her farthest right- "Now, I assume you know why you are here?"

"Yes, it wasn't hard to figure out," he answered, not caring who these people were or what they were capable of doing to his career.

"Your position was taken over three years ago, Ensign," Admiral Sierra informed Selak.

The Vulcan, for his part, laughed out loud at this, not caring at all for the fact he was surrounded by Captains and Admiral in Starfleet. "Thank-you, I hadn't noticed I'd been gone that long. Thanks, yes, you cleared up a very important question."

"This is a serious matter, Ensign," Captain Henrick hissed at Selak, leaning forward in his chair, his frustration evident in his voice.

"Calm down, Max," Admiral Richards told the man, turning back to the young Vulcan. She took a deep breath, taking in Selak as she did so. It was easy to see that the woman was Bajorian, or at least partly. "Now, Ensign, you must understand that this is standard procedure."

"Of course, Admiral," he answered, his voice calm.

"We're just curious how someone fighting at an outpost taken over by the Amocku wound up in a stolen A'Kesh vessel," Admiral Sierra stated.

"That's quite simple," Selak said, leaning back in his chair and putting his foot up onto his knee, making himself comfortable under the intense speculation of the five officers.

"Would you like to enlighten us, Ensign?" Captain Yearwood inquired, folding her hands in front of her in anticipation of the answer.

"Not particularly."

By then, Captain Henrick was becoming livid- Selak was considering recommending anger therapy. This only caused him to snap at Selak, saying, "You're riding close on insubordination."

"Max!" Richards scolded the man.

"Do you think, after everything I've been through, that that really scares me?" Selak leaned forward, putting his two feet flat on the floor.

"Please, Ensign, would you mind telling us what happened?"

The Vulcan turned to Admiral Harnak, a Trill who had yet to speak. "Mind? Yes. Will I? What the hell. We were overrun, captured by the Amocku. I wound up on one of their ships a year or so later, it was attacked by the Heyta and I was taken prisoner. They tortured me for a year, and then the A'Kesh attacked the base or whatever I was on. They found me, took me, gave me some medical treatment for my wounds and put me into a mining camp. Some of the prisoners there got together and planned a way to get out after a couple of months there. We stole a ship, and flew out of there. Okay? That's what happened. Can I go now?"

The panel of officers looked at each other. Henrick and Sierra seemed not to believe his story, Yearwood was slightly amused- either because of its absurdity or irony- while Harnak and Richards were curious, they seemed to believe him enough.

"You managed to survive _all _of our enemies' prison camps?" Selak just nodded at Sierra, not allowing the laughter in his voice to faze him.

"That's impossible," Henrick spat.

"You know, I don't think it's very fair to have such an impartial officer on this panel," Selak snapped back.

"Now-"

"Max!" Richards interrupted him, getting annoyed herself at Henrick's behavior.

"I'm not finished," he protested, turning to see the Admiral.

"You are now," she spelled out, silencing the Captain. "Now, Ensign, we can talk more about such things later. But I do need to know if you told any of them anything?"

"I'm not weak, or stupid, Admiral. I didn't say anything… I didn't know anything by the time they tried to interrogate me. Can I go _now_?"

"No," Sierra replied. "Do you know what happened to the others at the outpost?"

Selak glared at the man; this was not something he wanted to talk about. "Those who didn't die? They're prisoners of the Amocku."

"Do you know where these prisoners are?"

"No."

"But you were among them," Harnak stated.

"Yes, some of them."

"And were any of them Starfleet?" Yearwood asked.

"I don't know; maybe. But they're… they died early on."

"But you didn't?"

"No, obviously," he snapped at Henrick. "What do you want to know all this for?"

"We'd like to find some of our officers, if possible," Richards told him, her voice calm and kind.

"Well, I don't know where they might be. They're taken all over… I couldn't begin to tell you if any of them are still alive," Selak told her, looking directly at her rather than the rest. It seemed to make it easier, her gray eyes reminding him of his mother's- an image that he almost couldn't see any longer.

"Can I leave now? I don't want to talk about this."

Richards heard the pleading in his voice, the grief and sorrow accumulated over almost three years. She nodded, "Very well. We would like you to write a report, of anything you can remember or feel like reporting. Lieutenant, please escort him to his temporary quarters."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Thank-you, Ensign, I know that must have been hard for you."

Selak just glared at the Admiral. "If you really knew how hard, you wouldn't bother asking." Turning away, he walked off with the Lieutenant.

"That kid's a real bastard," Henrick commented once the doors had closed behind them.

"If you weren't already a bastard, Max, you would have become a jerk like him after everything he's gone through. Three years in a hell we don't even know about."

**_/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/_**

"Come in," Selak called out, frustrated as he turned away from his PADD. He couldn't have even ten minutes alone without someone coming in to make sure he was still there.

"Hello, Ensign Selak Evans?"

"Who else would be in here?" Turning away from the unfamiliar face, he continued writing on his PADD, not really sure what the rambling was supposed to mean.

"Um, I'm Lieutenant Tylus Bradley."

"That's nice."

Tylus seemed, for a moment, unsure of how to respond to the Vulcan. Instead, he cleared his throat, trying to grab the young man's attention. "Uh, what are you working on?"

"Look," Selak said, turning to face him. "If you're here for something, do it or say it and leave. If not, leave."

"Fine. I'm here because… well, Starfleet isn't, um… sure about your attitude," he muttered out, seemingly embarrassed about his presence there, or intimidated by the Vulcan two years younger than him.

"Oh, great. So now Starfleet thinks I'm insane."

"They don't think-"

"They're sending in a shrink, aren't they? Well, I don't need one, all right? Just leave." Selak turned away, going back to his PADD.

"I'm afraid I can't. I'm not allowed to leave until I get you to talk."

"I'm talking now, aren't I?"

"I meant about what happened to you."

"Get comfortable then, because I ain't in the story-telling mood tonight."

"Really? Are you sure?" Tylus asked, pulling up a seat, bringing it as close to Selak as he thought necessary- and safe.

Selak turned and regarded the doctor, taking in his dark hair, brown eyes, and pointed ears. He, too, was Vulcan. After a paused, Selak asked, "Do you have any siblings, Doc?"

"Yes, an older brother and younger sister. My brother, Ryan, is a diplomat."

"Oh, that's good. Good for him."

"Actually, he hates it."

"With the war and all, who could blame him? What's you sister's name?"

"T'Pol, named after our grandmother seven hundred or something yeas past," Tylus told him.

"T'Pol? Yeah, from _Enterprise NX-01_, right?"

"Right. How-?"

"Bit of a history buff. Yeah, my brother, Vir, got his middle name- William- from my great, great grandfather. He was the first officer of the _Enterprise-D _and _E_."

"Really? You have a brother? Tell me about him. What does he do?"

"He's a medical researcher. You know, one of those guys who figures out how to scramble your brains even more and create bioweapons when the government and Starfleet tell you they're just… trying to find a cure for cancer or something."

"Cancer?" Tylus questioned, not sure he knew what that was.

"See, that's what they want you to think."

If Tylus hadn't realized that Selak wasn't nearly as sincere as he thought he was, he might have laughed at the look Selak gave when he spoke. He sounded serious while, at the same time, sarcastic with his response.

"How do you mean?" Tylus wasn't sure where either of them was going with this comment, but it was worth a look.

"That's not what you're here for, so just lay off." Selak turned away, not at all impressed at the idea of having such an idiot for a counselor.

"Then what am I here for?"

"I would hope that you knew."

"Come on, Selak, talk to me," he pushed, knowing that the young man- a man not very younger than himself- was trying to push his way back into sarcasm to protect himself.

"You want me to tell you everything that happened?" Selak stated more than asked, his voice venomous rather than joking.

"That's my job. That's what they want," Tylus said, much more calmly than his patient.

"Well, what do you want?" Selak retorted, stepping closer to his fellow Vulcan.

"I want to know what you want to tell."

An almost snort-like sound came from Selak. Gruffly, he said, "So… I guess you want me to start at the beginning?"

"That would be the best way to start." Tylus gave a quickly nod, happy that it hadn't taken that much to get Selak to speak with him. He just hoped it stayed that way, three years would make for a rather long story.

Selak looked away; he sighed, this would be a while…__

_The young Ensign stood still after he stepped off the platform. With one hand holding his bag, clumsily draped over his shoulder, his other gripped his plasma rifle tightly, shaking from combined nerves and fear. _

_People had joked- mostly those that worked on the transport- that OP-162 was nothing but a wasteland on the verge of destruction… _

_The Ensign had laughed at such things, hoping that they were lies to scare him. But, as he stood there, it was easy to see that they were quite right. _

_The scene in front of him was nothing but a moon charred from firefights and showered with blood from the innocent. The Ensign had read the report. The outpost had had 1,230 workers- most Starfleet- only three years ago. Since then, almost another four hundred had been sent there. The only problem was the constant threat of the Amocku base twenty kilometers away- fighting hard for the moon's control. _

_But that was not the only reason he was there. It was his job to keep the machines to continue extracting the rare mineral needed for certain ships to continue flying. To be there to fight was only because they were short handed on that part. He and the thirty others that had come there were there to replace those who had already tried to defend the planet- to fill in for the fifteen hundred that had died. _

_"Come on, Selak, it's not that bad."_

_Selak turned to see Alex walk up behind him. The Human gave his lopsided smile- the same Selak had witnessed made girls drool- and patted the Vulcan on the shoulder. He nodded, even though he could sense his uneasiness, his fear. For he too was fresh out of the Academy- and straight into a war, a long bloody war with no sign of ending soon. _

_The two friends continued on, taking in the sight. It wasn't much at all- the main complex a merely large building, broken and crumpling from being the victim of constant bombardment. The other buildings, small one-roomed apartment-like tents, seemed to have been hastily made- and just as easy to be hastily taken apart. _

_"Finally, the newbies have decided to grace us with their presence!" Selak heard the taunting voice declare. Looking around he noticed that the rest of the new crew had followed him and Alex. A Lieutenant was looking up at them from one of the pop-up buildings. _

_His uniforms had been half stripped off, leaving him in nothing but his black pants and grey tang-top shirt, showing off his thick biceps. His short hair stuck up in the back, giving him the appearance of just waking up. His hand wiped away the sweat from his forehead, leaving a smudge of dirt where it was. _

_A second man peaked out of the next pop-up building, obviously curious at who was there. But he was pushed aside for another man- this one a lieutenant commander- to exit. _

_"Well, well, well. What are ya just standin' there for?" The tease caught the anxious group by surprise, making them look uncertainly at their partners. _

_"Hey, I'm just kiddin'," he laughed, wiping his face off with a towel. Tossing it back into his housing, he stepped out, not seeming to mind that he was bare from the waist up, a plasma rifle hanging from his bare shoulder. _

_"Come on. I'll show ya where yer stayin'. I'm Lieutenant Commander Breckem, by the way. You guys can call me Matt," he told them as they walked on, finding nearly fifty other pop-up housings all around the larger building. _

_"You guys will share these five. Split 'em up how ya want. Breakfast is at 0600 every morning. Dinner's at 1800. Lunch is whenever ya got time. The accommodations may not be the best but they'll keep you warm and dry," he teased them, seeing some of their uncertain glances. "Bit cramped but not bad."_

_Selak shrugged, stepping forward. They didn't look any worse than the fall out shelters on his old colony- a place he had spent a lot of time in as he grew up. _

_Alex stepped closer to one of the housings with Selak, the two moving into it. Selak moved back to the far end, placing his bag on the bed to stake his claim. Six beds lined the walls, folding up to conserve space. A heater was placed in the center, a mirror and area to shave and wash yourself right next to it._

_Alex placed his bag on the bed next to Selak's just as three more entered the room. The Vulcan looked up at them; the first two he knew from the transporter, Gary Mason and Joshua Coal, both Ensigns. Another Ensign followed in behind them, Selak only recognized him as the young red haired, freckled faced man at the front of the transporter- beyond that he hadn't interacted with the Ensign. _

_Their sixth roommate didn't enter for another few minutes, left with the bunk closest to the door. Without complaint, the blonde man sank down onto it. Again Selak recognized him but knew nothing about the man- he guessed they would learn more about each other eventually. _

_But it was late and they were all tired. In the morning perhaps… _

_Morning came quicker than expected, loud noises outside waking the six. But it was more the shaking of the housing and falling out of his bunk that woke Selak that morning. _

_With faster reflexes than Selak thought he possessed, he was up and on his feet, his plasma rifle in his hand. The others, as well, were up. The blonde's rifle in hand and ready to leave while the red-head seemed wide-eyes and glued to his bed. Alex, Gary, and Josh were up, shoes on and tongues flapping, with their rifles prepared, but no more willing to walk out the door than the red-head was to stand. _

_"Sh-should we g-go out?" Selak heard Gary say, his voice shaking in fear. _

_"Someone should," Alex stated, not even he moving to answer it. _

_"I will," the blonde stated more bravely than he felt. Opening the door, they were suddenly met with the smell of smoke and shouts of confusion. _

_"Move it out, newbies!" Matt's unmistakable voice yelled as he ran past. This was all the motivation needed for the blonde man to run outside. Selak swallowed, his Vulcan-side allowing him to suppress his fear- not helping much considering he still felt it. With only a second of hesitation, he stepped forward, following the blonde man. Alex moved behind him, the other two clumsily following. _

_Selak was met by the utter chaos that the Amocku's early morning attack had caused. He and four of his roommates moved with as much stealth as their limited experience- and untied shoes- allowed them. Soon they found Matt kneeling behind a large crate, firing into the smoke, obviously at the Amocku unseen through smoke and dust. _

_"What are we supposed to do?" Gary asked Josh, ducking under debris as more plasma blasts shook the ground._

_"What do you think? Fire at them!"_

_Selak did as Matt said, propping his rifle up against the debris he was hidden behind. His eyes burned from the smoke, tearing them up and making it impossible to see past his plasma rifle. _

_A large blast landed behind them, sending clumps of dirt and dust in the air, hitting the lot. Selak unfolded his body, having dropped to the ground to protect himself. Dirt slipped through his shirt, making his back itch with the annoyance. He shook his head, charred dirt falling out. _

_Looking to his left, he saw Matt firing, having never paused to consider the explosion. Josh gingerly rose, his hands shacking as he fired again. The blonde, who was kneeling next to him, fired repeatedly, moving his rifle expertly in hopes of hitting something. _

_He could see Alex from the corner of his eye. The man was getting up, collecting himself. Selak could sense that he was just as afraid as he was. Alex looked over at him; his eyes shone with fear. His face was already dirty, smudged with dirt and grim. _

_Selak looked beyond him, wanting to see how well Gary was holding up. But he wasn't there. The Vulcan's eyes whipped around, trying desperately to locate the man. But he was nowhere to be seen. _

_Someone shouted in the distance, grabbing a hold of Selak's attention. He had turned around in time to see a large explosion, three men forced into the air. He watched, wide-eyed as the one man failed his arms and legs. His shouts ended abruptly as his body hit the ground. _

_He turned back around, searching savagely for his plasma rifle. His fingers dug around in the dirt, not able to see in the smoky dawn. He ducked, feeling the heat of another plasma blast brush by, his back burning as debris tore into his skin. But he didn't pause for long, his fingers returning to their search for his missing plasma rifle. _

_But his search was in vain; it was too dark and smoky to see. His hand pounded the ground, frustrated at the poor earth. _

_He peaked over the debris, looking to see it he could see anything that was going on. His eyes widened. A plasma blast exploded right in front of him sending him flying back._

"What happened to you?" Tylus asked, not appreciating him stopping in the mist of excitement.

"I woke up in a make-shift hospital with a broken arm, a concussion and a couple of burns on my chest and face."

Tylus nodded. "What happened to Gary?"

"Gary? Oh, um... I think that he moved somewhere else. I don't remember. But he was fine."

Again Tylus just nodded. He nodded a lot, Selak noted. "So you blacked out before you actually did anything?"

Selak looked away, starring off out the window. "That's not entirely true," he whispered. "I woke up before that- before I got to the hospital…"

_Selak groaned, trying to turn his head, succeeding only in causing a larger headache to form. He slowly inhaled, nearly choking on the thick, smoke-filed air. _

_Punching hard on the ground with his elbows, he cried in pain, his right hand throbbing in protest. But he ignored it a moment, forcing himself to rise. He managed to sit up, but the movement sent pains through his right arm and chest- excruciation pain pulsing through his veins. His head felt as if it would explode. _

_He closed his eyes, lying back down on his side. Taking slow, deep breathes, he tried to calm the pain pounding in his eyes and arm. His mind paused, flustered when he couldn't recall what had sent him to the ground. Finally, the image of an explosion rushed back into his mind. He suddenly remembered floating through the air, ridding the energy current the blast had created. _

_He blinked opened his eyes; the smoke burning them, causing them to water once again. Blinking away the tears, his sight was bleared. _

_He froze. _

_There in front of him was the blonde man that shared his tent... and had been fighting besides him. He must have gotten caught in the blast as well. Selak looked him over quickly, not able to see much considering the man had his back to him. But, from what he could see, the man was paler than he should be and his blonde hair was dyed with red. _

_He pushed himself up, wondering how well the blonde was doing. Pulling himself closer as he tried to stay as low as possible, shouted at the man. "Hey! Hey! Can you hear me?" He suddenly wished that he had introduced himself- the least he could do was know the man's name. _

_Selak grabbed his shoulder, pulling the man onto his back so that he could see his face. The Vulcan's hand shot back, away from the young Human, fright controlling his actions. Half of the blonde's face had been blown off, revealing blood and bones. His one remaining eyes starred forward, lifeless and unseeing. _

_Selak felt sick, horrified by the sight. Turning quickly, he stomach heaved, pushing out the last of any food his had eaten. Dry heaves raked his body a moment, his body trying to force out something that was no longer there. _

_He crawled away, trying to find a familiar- or Federation- face. But, through the thick smoke and noise, his search was in vain. It only took a few moments to find himself a prisoner to his unconscious mind once again._

"Was that the first time you'd ever seen someone die?"

Selak glanced up at Tylus. "No. I'd seen some die on my colony; we were attacked often, mostly once the war stared. You know, officially. But I've never seen a man that I didn't even know yet did know… die that way. I mean, it was like my own mortality hit me at that moment- he died from the same blast that hit me. Yet he was dead, and I wasn't."

Tylus nodded. "Then what happened?"

"Well, nothing really. There were skirmishes… boredom… skirmishes… boredom. It went back and forth. We… well, I occupied my time working on the machine and going on patrol. And there was Miles- the red head I told you about. He was a nice boy. We talked when we could."__

Selak sighed. Suddenly, he said, "Nine months, two weeks, three days, five hours, and fifty-one minutes."

"That was how long you were there?"

He turned, a smile on his face. "No… no, that was how much longer I had when… when the base was attacked… when…" He sighed, turning away, his smirk replaced with a solemn look.

"I had only been there for three months, not even. I'd been in probably fifty firefights. By then nearly half of the base had die. The next shipment of supplies and men wouldn't be for another two months- some said we wouldn't last that long…"

_Selak glanced over at Miles. The boy was shaking- he was always shaking. The poor kid- he had a beautiful mind and was a great engineer, that was how he got in so young, but he didn't deserve such a rough post. He was eighteen and serving in a place ready to collapse and be run over at any moment. If their position were reversed, he'd be trembling too. _

_But he had to admit, Miles was getting better. He talked more and more with each day and was even starting to join in on card games and so forth. He didn't shake as much and he would get up and into the skirmishes when they happened- albeit hesitantly. He just hoped that the poor kid got out of there before too long. _

_Turning away, he scanned the area once again. His hands shook with cold; the nights were getting chillier every day. It must be closing in on the planet's winter. Rubbing his fingers, we tried to warm himself, keeping an eye out for Amocku. _

_He sighed. He was an engineer- he fixed things- he wasn't there to guard the perimeter. Miles definably wasn't. So why were they there again?_

_A noise caught Selak's attention, snapping his body awake and warm. Miles noticed his attentive listening, creasing his brown as he too tried to hear what the Vulcan had heard. But there was nothing. _

_Miles shrugged, looking away. But Selak wasn't as sure- he was positive he had heard something. His ears perked, trying to hear something; his eyes scanning the dark, looking for whatever he could find. _

_And he was granted with the sickening sizzling sound plasma bursts make when they sail through the air. At the same time, his keen eyes widened as they watched the burst slice through the air, heading towards them. The Vulcan tried to shout, but nothing came from his mouth. Instead he heard a chocked grunt from Miles, his body falling limp to the ground. _

_The Vulcan looked at the boy, his eyes starring forward. They were blank, devoid of the spark of life he had occasionally seen in the boy's eyes. His mouth was slightly agape, blood trickling down his cheek. _

_Selak ducked, dozens more blasts heading for him. Pulling himself to Miles, he checked the boy's pulse: nothing. The young Irish engineer was dead- it was the one thing he had feared most for the boy. _

_Grabbing a hold of his plasma rifle, he shot it three times in the sky- signaling which patrol was under attack- and began to fire at where the shots were coming from. Selak didn't have a clue how many there were, but that didn't really matter- help would be there soon. _

_A couple minutes later, Matt and everyone else came charging over. Josh slid down next to Selak, firing off a few shots as he went. Matt and Gary dropped behind a large boulder, firing after they were safely hidden. Alex, however, dived to the ground in an attempted to protect himself from an incoming volley._

_"Alex! Hurry up!" Josh called. He pushed himself up, running to where he was. He dived in quickly. _

_"Miles?"_

_"Dead," Selak responded quickly, turning to fire at the rocky horizon. _

_A loud explosion caught their attention. Matt and Gary were thrown into the air by a blast. _

_"Gary!" Josh shouted, Selak grabbing him to keep him from running after the body. _

_It was then that he looked around- the blast had come from behind. Josh and Alex looked behind them as well, more shots coming from the back. Josh finally got out of Selak's hold, running for Gary. _

_"Josh! Come back here! Josh!" But Selak's cries were met on deaf ears as a second plasma burst hit him dead on. Selak fired in the general area the blasts had come from, only to find that hundreds of Amocku were pointing their weapons at him. _

_They were surrounded. Outnumbered. And without a commander. _

_Selak threw his weapon down, seeing many others do the same. Alex, reluctantly, dropped his as well, rising in defeat and surrender._

"Were Gary and Josh brothers?"

"No, just good friends. From the stories they told, they met when they were like two. So, I guess you could say they considered themselves brothers."

Tylus quieted, letting Selak think. "So, where did they take you?"

"A ship. I don't know how long we traveled but it seemed rather far," Selak told him, reaching nearly three years back in his memory to get everything accurate. To get things he had tried to forget accurate.

"Then what? Where did you end up?"

"They beamed us down into this large building…"

_Selak's vision was obscured by a large mass of people, many- like himself- were confused and dazed at what was going on. Everyone wore similar restraints as him; a belt around the waist hold their hands to the sides, another chain leading to a collar comfortably buckled around the neck. _

_Almost immediately into their arrival the group was pushed into the crowd, being shoved like mad in all directions. Selak tried to keep his eye on Alex, the Human being pushed around and unable to help himself- unused to the limited function his hands now played. _

_Slowly the two, and most of their fellow Starfleet crewmates, were growing closer to the front. The Vulcan craned his neck, trying to see what was up there. But all he could see was heads and other people in front of him. _

_Suddenly an Amocku- dressed in uniform but not as a soldier- immerged from the crowd. He spotted the group, moving closer with a malevolent smile plastered on his face. "Di!" He shouted in his native tongue, the translation lost amoung them. When he realized that they weren't following his instructions, he grabbed Alex roughly by the arm, his smile gone. _

_Alex, of course, resisted but could do very little with the chains. The Amocku did not seem to care as he tapped a long stick on Alex's belt. The Human, for a moment, seemed more shocked than anything but Selak could tell that he was in a lot of pain. _

_With the distraction, the Amocku pulled him into the crowd of aliens and away from Selak. "Alex!" he tried to shout, but his words were lost upon the noise of the room. The Vulcan tried to push forward and to catch up to them, but his efforts were in vain- he only managed to lose the rest of the Starfleet personnel. _

_Soon, though, Selak reached a point surrounded with many of the same uniformed Amocku that had taken Alex. He too was grabbed by one. The man looked down at his belt, on there was a little card with- what looked like- writing. The man read it, nodding as if Selak had said something to him. _

_He pushed the Vulcan forward onto one of the podiums. Selak looked around, seeing that, in front of him, were not the same confused prisoners but Amocku shouting and smiling up at the podiums. _

_Looking to his left, Selak saw a smaller, bonnier species he didn't recognize- the man seemed unfazed by the events going on around him and impartial to what was to happen to him. He just stood, gazing but unseeing at the far wall. _

_To his right, a man was thrust upon the stage. His paler skin and hand and facial ridges pointed him out to be clearly A'Kesh. The alien didn't look at him, just scowled at the people below. _

_More frantically, Selak tried to look at the other podiums. But there was no sight of Alex or any other Humans. He was alone and, worst of all, he was a prisoner… _

"What happened after that?" Asked Tylus, his detached professional voice becoming slowly more interested as time went on.

Selak looked up him with a small tugging of a smile. "Well, I put on my best Vulcan, emotion-less face, squared my shoulders, and glared daringly at anyone who looked at me. Then…"

_"Ho-di-chu!" _

_Selak looked down to see one of the Amocku looking up at him, smiling and nodding his head as he spoke with the same uniformed Amocku that had put him up there. Unfortunately, the universal translator couldn't- and never had been able to- pick up the language, so their discussion was lost upon him. _

_He had, however, figured out what was going on. Stories, of course, had flowed through Starfleet ships and outposts about what their enemies did to their captives. Rumors that the Amocku had put P.O.W.s into slave trade had been some that Selak had heard. He knew, as did everyone else for it was common knowledge, that the Amocku made slaves of some of their conquered worlds. _

_And that was what was happening to him. He was being sold as a slave… _

_And that man was interested in buying him. The thought, he had to admit, was sickening. Like many, he had learned of Earth's history, how many years ago they had owned slaves and the brutal conditions many lived in. He had been taught about how even Teleritans and Bolians had owned slaves until only just centuries before. But never had he applied such a thought to himself. The Federation was, of course, above such things, right?_

_But those thoughts were ripped from his mind as the two Amocku approached the podium. He looked down at them, trying desperately to put on a face of resilience and courage when he was truly trying desperately not to cower away from them. _

_"Hac-ka-toe!" _

_Selak heard the sounds from the guard, he saw the movement of his lips but none of what he said registered in his mind. He was accustom to speaking with members of other species, he knew very well how the universal translator worked, and that words spoken were fluently translated and changed to allow everyone to understand them. _

_But not for the Amocku… _

_"Hac-ka-toe!" the alien shouted once more, this time taking the long, black stick he held in his hands and touching it to Selak's mid-section. The Vulcan flinched but nothing more than that- it didn't seem to be made to cause massive amounts of pain, just enough to made someone more cooperative. _

_"I don't understand you," he muttered, looking down at the Amocku's face. _

_"Hac-ka-toe-mesa-kaunt!" _

_Selak winced at the second wave of pain that shot through his torso- it seemed that the device was programmed to increase each time. He looked to the guard again, his eyes reflecting honesty- whether or not the alien knew Human facial expressions. _

_"I don't understand," he repeated slowly, not sure if the alien could understand him either. _

_For the third time, Selak was tapped by the stick, feeling the sickening waves of pain creep through him. "I don't understand!" He yelled before the Amocku even spoke, knowing it would be the same, un-understood message. _

_The guard seemed to be going to tap him a forth time when the prisoner to his left- the alien Selak had not recognized- spoke. His words came clearly to Selak, though monotoned, and it appeared that the translator was able to quickly pick up the language._

_"He doesn't understand your language, master. You cannot blame him."_

_The guard, too, seemed to understand his language for he nodded, lowering his stick. This time he spoke to the alien, repeating what he had said before, adding a few different sounds to the beginning. _

_The alien turned slightly and looked at Selak. His eyes were just as vague and uncaring as they had seemed before. When he spoke, again his voice came out with a monotone sound- Selak wondered if that was just because the translator couldn't pick up on the use of emotion or if that was simply how his talked. _

_"He wants you to step down and follow him."_

_"Why?" Selak asked, hoping that the alien would continue speaking, even though he knew he shouldn't test the guard's patience. _

_"It would be wise not to ask questions or even speak unless told." The alien, too, seemed to already understand this for he would not say another word. Instead he looked away, starring again at the wall. _

_Selak sighed, knowing it would be better to do as told. Stepping down, he felt the guard roughly pull him down and push him forward- the other man seemed to have already left while Selak was busy trying to figure out what was being said. _

_The Vulcan looked back at the alien. He was too fragile and weak and Selak doubted he'd last much longer as a slave, depending on how they were treated. Perhaps he wouldn't be chosen at all; he wondered what would happen if that came true. _

"What happened to the alien?"

Selak shrugged at the counselor. "I don't know. I never saw him again; I never saw any of them again. Not even Alex. From what I had seen, I'd imagine that he had never even been chosen by any of the buyers- not unless he had some kind of talent that required his brain not body. Otherwise, if he had been bought, a few days of work probably would of killed him."

"You said you didn't know his species?"

"I ran across another after that. They were a conquered species inside of Amocku space. They've been on the run and made into slaves for nearly two centuries, the Grinwald. At least that's what I heard."

Tylus nodded, it was no secret that the Amocku had had slaves for thousands of years; it was a way of life for them. "So what happened to you once you were off the podium?"

"I was taken to this back room. The buyer, the one I had seen talking to the guard was there…"

_The rough hand gripped Selak's face, forcing his mouth opened to inspect his teeth- an action much mirroring one in the process of buying an animal. With his hands locked to his sides, he could do little more than struggle against the men that held him in place. _

_A pleased smile grew over the buyer's face; a curt nod all he offered to the guard- or merchant- that had herded him onto the podium. He stepped back, releasing his face, as his eyes took in the Vulcan once more. His hand reached up, scratching his bald head- all of them were bald, something Selak was amused by. _

_Pushing down the urge to spit at the alien, Selak stood there, his eyes betraying none of his fear or bewilderment. But, at the sound of their grunts they called a language, his ears perked, the translator implanted in his ear working hard to translate the complex dialect. _

_Though he tried, his effort was in vain. Not a single word could be translated into Federation standard; none of the words meaning anything to him. But, suddenly and obviously ordered, one of the guards removed his restraints. Quickly, others came in to hold him down. _

_But the others' hands only came when, and only when, the Vulcan's eyes came upon the other alien. Removing a sharp, battle knife, Selak tried to back away. But, of course, the hands stopped him. _

_The same pleased smirk appeared; the alien raising his knife to the Vulcan's neck. But rather than hurting him, the knife moved, slicing opened his uniform shirt. Ripping it down the front, the hands let go only long enough to slide the material over his arms._

_His uniform, one solid piece, pooled down at his feet, leaving the rest of his body exposed- nude. As he knew many humans would do, he did not let his fear or embarrassment show. He felt no shame at the exposure, the Vulcan having no problem with nudity. He did not even flinch or blush in shy embarrassment as he knew his captors had wanted. Just stood there. _

_"Ta-ch. Ko-kac-hac."_

_The harsh word spat out at him; his translator again picking up none of the language. They really needed a linguist to work on that, was his only thought. His mind still ignoring his nudity, the Vulcan having had grown up where it was considered common practice to walk around in the nude. _

_"Ta-ch," the "buyer" said once again, his eyes roaming around the Vulcan's body, only that unnerving him but not enough to evoke a response. "Ti-ch. La-to-kin."_

_A curt nod-like gesture was made by the other alien, the one that had stripped him, just before he walked over to the Vulcan, carrying an unfamiliar machine. Pushing the Vulcan's head to the right, he placed it just above his left pectoral. For a second, nothing happened. Bu, after a short moment, a sharp pain ripped through his chest and arm. When the machine was removed, Selak could see that some type of their writing had been stamped onto him. _

_"Cha-for-te."_

_Though he couldn't understand the words, he knew what he meant. He had been branded; labeled and marked for the computer to know him. He was now officially a prisoner of war. _

_"Ta-ke!" _

_Immediately, the same alien approached him, this time with bulky arm restraints. Locking his hands in place- this time in front- the aliens pushed him forward and out the room, still naked. Still alone… _

"I recall hearing about that… tattoo thing."

"Yeah."

Tylus sighed, he had hoped to hear more about it, perhaps later. For now he wanted the rest of the story. He changed the topic, asking another question that had arisen while Selak had spoken. "You were raised on Betazed?"

"On and off throughout my childhood; more or less though, I lived at the science colony on Omega III."

"How much, you know, Betazoid blood do you have?"

"Um… I'm about a quarter. A little less, I guess. Why?"

"Just wondering. What house are you?"

"What makes you think I have a house?"

"Most do now," he retorted. Selak just smiled and nodded. Like most, the Betazoid lines were becoming as polluted as Vulcans', if you can say such a thing about bloodlines.

"Fifth house. Holder of… some such garbage. My great-great-great-great-so on and so forth grandmother was Lwaxana Troi," he told the physiologist with pride.

"Really? That's how you got your human blood?"

"Yeah, when her daughter married Will Riker. That's how I got some of it, most of it is on my father's side, though."

"I can imagine," Tylus commented, he himself being more or less half human. "Oh, um, so what happened next?"

Tylus's tone made it almost sound like some action-adventure story. But Selak didn't mind; maybe if he could pretend it was, it wouldn't be so hard to plunge back into these memories.

"Well, I was… brought to a ship, still naked. Then the entire time I was hanging on a little anti-gravity pad without anything to cover me…"

_Selak felt hands pulling and pushing him through halls and into a room. But he couldn't see anything. He had already tried to shake off the blindfold, much to the amusement to his captors. _

_His hands were still bound in front of him, his body still stripped of his clothes. That only helped to heighten his awareness of the drop in temperature. _

_He tried hard to hide his discomfort as the Amocku forced him farther into the cold room. His feet stepped upon something hot, burning the soles of his foot- even through the hard calluses that had formed on them. Selak tried to maneuver around the hot area but the Amocku shoved him onto it. _

_Selak hissed in pain, the Amocku stopping him there. Selak felt his hands being raised above his head. His shoulders pulled hard, something holding them up above his head. It was quite uncomfortable, only made worse as he felt the ground drop from beneath him. _

_The blindfold was suddenly removed, making Selak shut his eyes quickly from the bright light. Squinting, he was able to see the white walls of the ship and pale face of his buyer. _

_"Sha-yo?" Selak blinked away the tears in his eyes, starring blankly at the Amocku, waiting for him to repeat it or show what he meant. _

_But the alien smiled, pulling something from his shirt pocket. He bent over, setting something on the floor- Selak not able to see what it was. The Vulcan heard a small beep, obviously coming from the device that the Amocku had set down. _

_The Vulcan was met with sentences in the Amocku language- Mokun, their major language. Afterwards, words in Federation standard began. Selak realized with a start that the recording was meant to teach him Mokun. He sighed. It might actually do him some good as, it seemed, that his translator never would be able to catch onto the language. _

_The Amocku stood, walking away and out the door without another word. Not that Selak would have understood it. He sighed, looking down at the device, surprised to find that, rather than the ground having lowered, he was raised off the ground. _

_A moan escaped him. His arms already ached, his shoulders making odd sounds in protest. He didn't even know how long he'd be there... _

_"Yu-ta-cum. Follow me. Tae-hoe-ja. Come this way," the machine droned on, the emotionless computer voice seemingly taunting him. He had nearly fallen asleep time and time again from the constant, steady pace. But the pulling on his shoulders and vacancy of feeling in his arms prevented him from trying. He sighed, he hadn't slept in nearly two days- at least he was almost positive that it had been that long. _

_He rested his chin on his chest, closing his eyes so that he couldn't see the foot of air between his feet and the ground. His body shook, shivering from the cold gust of wind that hit his naked body. His head tilted up, glancing at the door he had seen the Amocku walk out a few days before. _

_The door had opened. Behind it stood a naked man, his eyes hidden beneath a blindfold. He was shoved in, stumbling. Hands grabbed a hold of him, steering him. Selak immediately recognized the scene as what he must have gone through. _

_Looking both over, he noted that the newest prisoner was an A'Kesh, small pointy ridges covering his jaw line. The man behind him was the same Amocku as before. It was evident that he had just "purchased" a new POW. _

_"I-hac-toe-friend-ko-you." Selak starred at him as he walked the A'Kesh to a similar glowing pad, surprised that he knew some of the words. "Cone-tum?" He didn't recognize the first word but was pretty sure that the second was 'words'. _

_When Selak didn't respond, he just smiled and forced the A'Kesh onto the glowing pad. His arms were immediately put in the air, his body following suit. His blindfold was ripped off soon after. The A'Kesh started to squirm, trying to get down. His breathing quickened as if he were terrified- it wouldn't be hard for him to be. _

_"Ha-fun," was all the Amocku said before walking out. _

_The A'Kesh waved his legs under him, trying to find the floor, only accomplishing to pain his shoulders and arms more. _

_"Stop moving and it won't hurt as much," Selak warned. The alien paused, finally noticing Selak. "Selak Evans. Federation. You?" He knew who he was talking to- one of his enemies. But he had also never met one and had never had the opportunity to talk to one. _

_"Your name has no meaning to me."_

_"Ok." Selak relented, looking away, again starting to listen to the droning of the device as it taught him Mokun. "Hor-tu-las-pon. Would you like food? Tor-min-hor. I am hungry."_

_"Do you know where we're going? Or where we are right now?"_

_The A'Kesh glared at him. Then he smiled. "The arena- no Federation have ever lived to tell about it."_

_The Vulcan gulped. That didn't sound very good. "And A'Kesh? Do they live?"_

_"Some." He nodded. It really didn't sound very good._

"The arena? What exactly is that?"

"A sandpit, pretty much. Well, ok, the arena was a large building including a stadium and sandpit, along with the underground housings for the gladiators."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" Tylus interrupted. "What do you mean gladiator? And what's the sandpit?"

"Exactly that. As entertainment, the Amocku watch gladiator fights. Slaves fighting each other in what we- the slaves- call a sandpit. Which was a large pit below the stadiums that was covered with sand. You play "games" in which you have to wound or kill your opponent using some kind of weapon- usually knifes. Some times they would add obstacles- stakes and hidden traps and so forth. I didn't deal with those that often. But, then, you really didn't know about them until they shot out of the ground or you fell into one."

"Right. Okay, so I take it you got there?"

"Yes. After one last encounter with the Amocku that bought me."__

_Seven days… _

_No… no… it had been eight. Eight days. _

_Three since they had taken the other away… But it had been eight days of hanging there, _

_His arms pulled awkwardly above his head, the magnetic restraints holding him just above the ground. His entire body ached, his stomach growled for food just as his mind screamed out its need for sleep._

_Every few hours- his mind only entertained by counting out the seconds- many other prisoners would walk through the room, it connecting to many others. At first, some had turned and looked his way, seeing his continued nakedness. The majority- by then, all- would ignore him. None laughed, yet none seemed at all shocked by the occurrence. _

_But there was still another two hours, twenty-two minutes, and thirty-seven seconds until they would walk in. But in a few minutes, he knew the same Amocku that had bought him would come in. He would ask if he was embarrassed enough to be taken down; humiliated enough to want to work- to be sent to the arena, as the other alien had told him about. The man taunted him with the thought of food and clothing and rest. But, as he always did, the Vulcan just ignored him. _

_A soft hum escaped his lips; a song stuck in his mind, keeping him entertained for some two hours as he tried, in vain, to remember the words. Instead, he hummed out the melody; the tune coming out effortlessly. _

_"Why do you insist on making that horrid sound?" Echoed the alien, the Vulcan nearly smiling when his head bobbed to the side to see him. Always right on time. But rather than answering, his head moved back into its former position, still humming the tune. _

_"Stop that! Now, this is the last time I will ask. Are you ready to give in? Is all this finally getting to be too much for you?" He asked, his mechanical sounding voice actually appearing to be taunting. _

_"Look there." His arm extended, pointing to the door many went through every day. "There are the doors to a bed, clothes… food. You know you want to go through them. You just want to give in. But you're too proud." The Vulcan watched him closely as he pretended to hide behind his insane demeanor. Suddenly, the alien stepped closer, shocking the Vulcan with his proximity- though the humming never stopped, merely stuttered. _

_"Pride will earn you nothing here. No longer do you have a name. You have been stripped to nothing. This is your only chance. If you don't, I leave you here to die."_

_The Vulcan's singing stopped; the shadow of a smile appearing on his face. "I do not believe so. This is merely an attempt to humiliate me, to make me bow down to you in disgrace and shame. That has not worked, but you still paid for me. You won't kill me."_

_"I don't care what happens to you-" he warned, the Vulcan's humming starting once again, "but I won't have slaves who won't listen to me. You have twenty seconds to decide."_

_"Cree craw toad's foot," came out of the Vulcan's mouth, his appearance suggesting that he never heard the warning. _

_"Ten… Nine… Eight…"_

_"Geese walk bare foot," he continued, ignoring the countdown as he infuriated the alien. _

_"Five… Four… Three… Two… One. Not again."_

_With that, he turned away from the prisoner, marching toward the door. "Wait!" The Vulcan called, pivoting around, using his foot to try and maneuver himself, a painful endeavor as it put more strain on his already pained shoulders. _

_"What?"_

_"What would you do if I say that I will do as you want, whatever it is that you want," he asked, seeing the same amused smile he had seen only nine days before. _

_"What? You haven't figured that out yet?"_

_Selak just looked at him, no longer feeling the horrible rumbling in his stomach. _

_"Are you sure you want to work for me? Perhaps death would be better? More honorable?" _

_"Just let me down," he croaked, his throat dry from thirst. _

_"Very well." With a mere touch of a device on his hand, the handcuffs opened, sending the Vulcan's nude body to the floor. A foreign gesture of the hand instructed a guard to leave, returning with some clothes. The pile was tossed at his feet, the Vulcan not reaching out for them to cover him. _

_"Well, put them on. You'll need them. As I'm sure you know, the nights can get awfully cold." The Vulcan looked up at the alien in annoyance, the taunting continuing to annoy him. Then, doing as instructed, he stood and put on the thin uniform he had been given. The material reached to his ankles and his shirt collar was oddly cut to expose the new tattoo they had branded him with. _

_"Very good, 726. Very good."_

"726?"

"Cha-for-te. My designation. The number they put on my chest."

Tylus nodded, he was getting farther with the tattoo but nowhere near knowing much about it. But, like before, he decided not to push. "So, what happened after that? He let you down, but what did he make you do?"

"According to him, the card on my belt said that I knew how to fight. When I concurred, he said that I looked like the kind of fighter he had been looking for."

"I'm not sure I'm catching on."

"The man that bought me was in charge of one of the larger arenas; he was bringing me there to become one of his newest gladiators. I just didn't know what to expect…"

_Selak stumbled forward as hands pushed him, his own hands bound to his sides and useless. He sifted his arms, trying to make himself more comfortable in the new, itchy clothing he had been given. Even to just let his wrists be alleviated of some of their pain. He wasn't even going to bother with how annoying the shackle-like device around his neck was, though the chain appeared to give him enough slack to lean far backwards. _

_He looked up and around himself, trying to take in his surrounds. The corridor they were taking him through was dark, lit only by dim light fixtures hidden in the walls. It seemed to be made mostly of a brown clay-like material. The ground was hard dirt, or so it looked. _

_Even the air smelt of dirt and sand. It was stale, as well. Thinner than he was used to, but not overly difficult to breathe. Just uncomfortable. _

_The hands- those belonging to two aliens, their species he couldn't identify- stopped him once they reached a gate. The gate itself seemed to fit the rest of the area: it was made of a black metal. It reminded him of pictures he had seen in old books about Earth's 1400's Europe. Or some time in there. _

_He could see two small windows in the gate. They were high off the ground, but just over his eye level. He couldn't see anything out of them; sand and dirt had smudged them over. They seemed as if they had never seen any water in their existence. _

_Suddenly, one of the aliens unlocked the restraints around his wrists. After that, he removed them from the belt around his waist that they were connected to. Selak looked at him in confusion, watching his actions closely as he stored them away. _

_The second alien, who he hadn't been watching, startled him by roughly grabbing his hand, shoving a knife into it. _

_"Uh, no. No, thanks. I don't- no, I don't ne-" but the alien ignored his plead, not taking back the weapon when offered to him and turning away. Selak looked down at it, wondering if he could hide it and use it for escape. _

_Selak then looked between the two aliens, but neither would look at him. Instead they seemed focused on whatever was going-on on the other side of the gate. _

_"Excuse me," Selak began, hoping that one of them had a universal translator. "Excuse me!" He tried, but neither looked. They just continued to ignore him. _

_Finally, one turned away, keying in a sequence on some sort of keypad. Selak tried to see what he was doing, but his bulky body blocked the device quite well. _

_After just a moment, the gate started to creak opened, sliding slowly up into the wall. Selak watched it work its way up; it seemed to take forever. All the while his heart began to pound- he had no idea what to expect on the other side. They had given him a knife, did they think he'd need to protect himself? _

_The gate opened high enough for him to see that the area was completely covered with sand. White sand, glowing brightly from the lights inside. He starred at it a moment, recalling how he had been told about the planet Vulcan and how it was covered with sand. _

_He anticipation grew; his fear mounted. He was terrified of what they might have in there. Was this what that A'Kesh had told him about? Was he going to be forced to fight? No, he was kidding him. They couldn't possibly… could they?_

_The gate was almost level with his eyes. He could see almost everything on the other side. No rabid animal or alien creature. No other person like him, knife in hand and branded like some animal. _

_But there was a very large stadium, people filled the entire thing. Row after row of seats were occupied. The first row was nearly seven meters off the ground, looking down on the sand filled pit. _

_The alien hands pushed him forward, forcing him onto the hot, white sand. He winced, his feet burning. Sand slid through his toes, a feeling he had only experience a few times in his short life. _

_He walked farther into the area- the arena, he assumed. Cheers erupted from the crowd, as if excited that he had entered. He looked up in the stadium, once again feeling awkward, as he was the object of everyone's mind. Hundred, maybe thousands, of A'Mocku were watching his every move. There was cheering and booing as he walked around the sandy arena. _

_The applause slowed to a low rumble, the audience turning their attention away from him. For a moment, he was relieved, only to realize that they were now looking at a gate on the other side of the arena. It was slowly opening, but already he could see the bare feet of another person- another slave of the Amocku. _

_There was very little that was overly distinct about the alien. Nothing except for his blue skin- a Bolian. Selak approached him slowly just as he walked out into the sand. The Vulcan took in his appearance- he was thin, tired, and very weak. Selak had never seen one of his species that was so… blank, so unapproachable or emotional. He looked as if he might die any day. _

_The Bolian just walked to the middle of the arena, a place marked by a circular structure, Selak had just walked past it without care. The only thing in the sand that he had noticed had been a jungle-gym-like object over to the left corner. _

_Selak followed him, noticed how casually he carried the weapon in his hand, how much more at ease he was with the process. _

_"Hey, what's going on in here?" Selak asked, hoping to get an answer out of the man. Their species were, after all, allies. He had no reason or want to injury the starved Bolian. _

_The alien just looked at him, not answering but not ignoring him. "What do they want us to do?" Selak rephrased. Perhaps he was just too tired to talk or comprehend him at the moment. _

_"They want you to kill me. Just do it quickly," the Bolian answered, his voice weak but sincere. _

_"I won't. We can get out of here." _

_The alien actually laughed. "There is no out. Only life. And the only way to live, is to fight and kill me."_

_"I won-" but he never finished. Already, the Bolian sliced his knife through his bare shoulder. Selak hissed in pain, trying to catch his breath at the sudden blow. _

_The crowd laughed and cheered; Selak looked up at them, confused at their behavior as well. The Bolian just stood there, impassive. _

_"What the hell was that for?"_

_"Fight. Or die." With that, the Bolian went to hit him again with his weapon. This time Selak blocked his blow, knocking the weapon too easily from the alien's hand. He avoided using his knife, even his wounded arm, but did fight the alien until he was on the ground. _

_Selak bent over him, his knife stiffly held in his hand. The Bolian just starred up at him, his nose bloodied, blue dripping from it. _

_"Kill me. End this nightmare."_

_"I won't kill you," Selak enforced. He would fire blindly on an Amocku that was charging him, or firing at him. He would kill one of his enemies if and only if he was threatened. But he wouldn't kill a half starved man that had allied himself to his people. _

_"You will," he whispered, his hand reaching out to grab the Vulcan's throat. Selak chocked on his breathe, shocked by the alien's actions. He clawed at the Bolian's hand, trying to force him to let go. All the while he felt more and more light headed as his oxygen was depleted. _

_"Kill me, and you live. Do it now, give me some kind of honorable death, or let them kill me. I'll die either way. You have a choice."_

_Selak gasped for air, hoping that the weak alien would loosen his grip. But it was strong as ever. He could only last a few more seconds. _

_Selak looked into the alien's eyes; he was completely sincere. He would kill him just as he wanted to die. And he knew he would die even if Selak didn't do it. _

_His knife was still in his hand, he could feel the rough grip under his fingers. It was near the Bolian's stomach, if he just… _

_But could he live with the absolute knowledge that he had indeed killed someone? Would he just be presented with this over and over again as he lived there as an Amocku prisoner? _

_"Kill me," the Bolian pleaded. His mind was slipping, he couldn't last much longer. _

_He shut his eyes, trying to hide the tear that slipped from his grasp. His stomach churned with the sound of the knife piercing the Bolian's skin, slipping farther into his body. He pushed it in hard before pulling it out. _

_"Thank-you," the alien whispered before his eyelids slid closed. His hand loosened, releasing Selak. _

_The Vulcan pushed himself up, disgusted by the sight. He look down at his hand, blue blood covered his hand. The blood of the first man he killed knowingly… the first man he killed on purpose. _

_He vaguely noticed slaves rushing out, two holding an anti-gravity stretcher. They pulled up the body, tossing him on and taking him away. At the same time, the crowd burst in applause. Shouts and jeers echoed in the arena, nothing making it to Selak's ears. _

_A hand grabbed his wrist, thrusting his hand covered in blood up in the air, showing it to the audience. He weakly tried to pull it away, wanting nothing to do with the sicken sport they seemed to have. He wanted nothing to do with anything involving the Amocku… _****

****

"You killed a Bolian?"

Selak shrugged, sighing. "I killed a lot of people. One human, once. Many species I didn't know, some we're fighting. A Trill; a few others from the Federation."

Selak sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He was my first. But I've never forgotten a face. Never. And there were a lot of them. A whole lot."

"You remember every fight?"

"Not every one in complete detail. A few things here and there. Some things that have replayed themselves in my dreams. Moments and faces."

"What was the next thing that happened? That you remember?"

He took a deep breath, expelling it as he thought. "Oh, um… they took me to one of the sleeping areas- there were eight of them. You only fought against those that weren't in yours.

"Um, I was shown to this small area in the back. It looked the same as the corridor did- small, dark, and made of brown clay. But then, everything did…"

_"Take this." Selak spun, the voice startling him, adrenaline still rushing through his system. It was an A'Kesh man, one nearly in his forties by Human standards. His hand was outstretched, in it was a knife, one similar to the one he used in the arena. _

_"Why?" Selak had little trust of the A'Kesh, they had after all violated their alliance with the Federation. Not to mention he simply didn't trust their eyes- it was just something about them. _

_"This will be one of the few times you'll be able to practice. I suggest you take them when they come. Take it."_

_His voice was more forceful, shaking the knife in his hand as if it would make Selak take it faster. "Practice? They just made me kill a man for no reason and you want me to practice with you? An A'Kesh?"_

_The man laughed, amused by him. He dropped his arm, the weight of gravity starting to tire it. His hand ran through his short hair- a reddish brown color that seemed to be the only shade A'Kesh had. "You've never had to kill before, have you? You're young, by your standards. But don't worry, boy, you'll soon learn to have the stomach for it."_

_"Learn to kill? I-"_

_"You will," he interrupted, startling the Vulcan by tossing the knife at his feet. "You will or you will die. It is as simple as that."_

_"Fine." Reluctantly, Selak bent down, picking up the knife though his eyes never left the A'Kesh. _

_"I will not stab you in the back. Besides, I cannot." Selak's wrinkled brow showed his confusion. "See that light on your belt? Whenever it's on, which is whenever you are outside the arena, no other prisoner can harm you. It places a forceshield around you. See?"_

_Selak jumped back, his reflexes quick but not putting him out of the way of the knife in time. The blade hit him straight on, the tip just below his rib cage. But, true to his word, the knife stopped only three centimeters from his body, bouncing off the forceshield the man had promised would be there. _

_"What's your designation?"_

_"Selak."_

_"There are no names here, only numbers. Your designation."_

_"726. You?"_

_"238. But, since I am no good with numbers, I will call you Selak."_

_"What's your name? Your real name?"_

_"It has been a long time." _

_"Surely not long enough to forget such a thing."_

_He looked away, moving towards him to pick up his knife without seeing the Vulcan at all. When he straightened, Selak saw that he held both knifes, obviously offering the one to him. With a sigh, he looked down at the A'Kesh's hands. He noticed that they had a gill like ridges on them, something he had never seen on one before. _

_Selak's hand reached up, taking the knife, thinking that it may save his life the next time he was forced to fight. _

_"Leto."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"My name was Leto."_

_"You mean it is Leto."_

_"Not anymore."_

_"Then to me."_

_Leto smiled, an amused nod telling Selak that he did, indeed, have the permission to call him by that title. "Well, are we here to talk, or fight?"_

_"Apparently fight."_

_"Good. Stance," he stated, suddenly shifting quickly from relaxed to, what looked like, a karate stance. Selak mimicked it, hoping it was appropriate. Leto didn't scold him. Then Selak lashed out, trying to hit the man. _

_Leto, with very little effort, grabbed him by the wrist, twisting his arm. Selak hissed in pain, dropping the knife to the ground. Only then did the A'Kesh let him go, a soft smile playing on his lips, a chuckle escaping him as Selak rubbed his injury. _

_Selak huffed, bending over and picking up the knife as Leto taunted, "Be careful, Federation Hybrid, such a pathetic move could get you killed."_

_"Federation Hybrid?" Selak spat angrily. _

_"It's what you are. Don't try to deny it; a half blind man could see your ears."_

_Selak glared angrily at him; he didn't appreciate the insult, as such a nickname was considered in Federation space. But, then, he wasn't in Federation space, was he?_

_Frustrated, Selak jumped into his stance, prepared to take on Leto once again. This time he wouldn't be so foolish; instead he'd try to employ the martial arts lessons he had learned. _

_Once Leto was in his own stance, Selak quickly kicked his hand, forcing the A'Kesh to drop his weapon. He sliced the knife through the air, determined to hit Leto. But the man dodged him with ease, insulting the amount of energy Selak had put into his attack. _

_Leto threw a punch, aiming for Selak's chest, but he blocked it, using his angle to connect his elbow with Leto's chin. The A'Kesh fell to the ground, his eyes catching the sight of his knife next to him. Selak went to kneel, a smirk on his face with the smug thought that he had won against the A'Kesh. _

_But he never made it to the ground. In the blink of an eye, quite literally, Leto was gone. Selak could see almost an echo of his movements behind him. But, before he could react to it, a knife was only four centimeters from his neck. _

_Selak tensed, his stomach muscles reacting to having Leto's arm around his waist. "How the hell did you do that?" Selak asked, quickly spinning around when Leto released him. _

_"It's called speed-walking. Few A'Kesh are able to do it. Only those by the name of K'Na."_

_"K'Na? Never heard of them."_

_Leto laughed. "Of course you haven't, Hybrid. Come on, Stance."_

"After a while, Leto became one- well, the only- friend I had there. Eventually he taught me to speed-walk."

Selak turned to look at Tylus. At some point, he had risen, walking over to look out the window without realizing what he was doing. "You must have heard about the implant in my neck?"

"Yes, but-"

"The Amocku put that there later to stop me from using it. Even now I can't. But, I learned. Long and hard did I train, but I learned…"

_Selak tripped, falling on his face. He groaned, hitting the dirt ground with his fists. _

_"Being angry with the ground won't help you do this correctly," Leto scolded. _

_Selak just sighed, pushing himself up. "I'm never going to get this. Maybe it's just not possible," the Vulcan said in defeat, touching his tender forehead. That was the third time he had hit it. _

_"It is too possible. You just have to get up and try again. This time, maybe you should try believing that you can do it." Selak sighed, taking Leto's offered hand. _

_"But not even your entire species can, why do you think I'll be able to?"_

_"You want to know why only certain A'Kesh can speed-walk?" Selak shrugged. "It's because centuries ago, our ancestors could. As the years went on, less bothered with it. So, for those who "can", it is merely something that comes naturally and easily. For those who supposedly "can't", just don't have the inclination or care to try."_

_Selak looked away. "Now, let's try this again." Selak sighed. He stepped to the side, readying himself to try. He took slow, deep breathes, concentrating on the spot a few meters in front of him. _

_Suddenly he felt dizzy, as if the entire world was spinning all around him. He stumbled over his feet, tripping himself. Again he pounded the ground in frustration. But Leto just laughed, clapping. _

_Selak looked up at him in confusion as the A'Kesh crotched down. "Very good, you moved a whole… five meters. Very good for your first try. Now we'll just have to practice direction and balance."_

_"You mean… I did it?"_

_Leto beamed, shouting, "You did it!" _

_"I did it! I really did it!"_

"You did it? Just like that?"

"Just like that?" Selak repeated in disgust. "It took a lot of practice and falling for a week to move those five meters. It took nearly a month of work to make me any good at it. Then another month before I was even going to dare use it."

"So, did you ever? Use it, that is?"

"Yeah, for the last… five months that I was there. Oh, it was a big hit with people. They thought it was amusing, pretty much. Um… but yeah. I can still remember the first time…"__

_Selak took a deep breath, shifting his feet in the sand as he watch the gate slowly open. His mind went through some of the basics- looking over the arena, taking in his stance, his weapon, waiting to see what alien he would be fighting. It was always important to know their strengths and weaknesses. _

_He glanced __over his shoulder. Leto, like always, was waiting at the window watching how well he did. He sighed; he'd give it a try. Leto said he was ready, but he also said to hold out on it. No one would expect him to be able to- not even all A'Kesh could, so why would a Federation Hybrid know?_

_If he used it, then he'd lose a measure of surprise. Such a thing spread like wildfire. _

_The gate grinded to a stop, his opponent marching out: an A'Kesh. His breath caught, he'd never fought one. Well, with the exception of Leto. _

_He took a deep breath; this might be the perfect person to use it on. He could defeat Leto if he concentrated- he could defeat this A'Kesh. _

_The alien stepped forward, stopping a few steps from Selak. Discreetly, the Vulcan looked at the alien's hands. Only those capable of speed-walking possessed the gill-like skin on their hands. Leto had told him that, but not that it was significant. Just that it was so. _

_Luckily, this A'Kesh had none. Which meant Selak was one up on him. Two if you counted the surprise element. _

_The A'Kesh grunted with effort as he moved. Selak dodged him easily. He rolled on the ground, getting some distance between him and the alien. He sighed, only if he were concentrated could he speed-walk, he wasn't practiced enough yet. Which meant he'd have to give it a shot soon or he probably wouldn't be able to at all. _

_He pushed himself back onto his feet, readying his weapon. The A'Kesh looked at him, an odd smile on his lips. And Selak made his move. _

_The same feeling of disorientation took over him, his body suddenly finding itself right next to the alien, his knife imbedded in his chest. _

_The A'Kesh looked at him in shock and surprise. "K'Na," was all his whispered before he fell to the ground, taking Selak's weapon with him. _

_The Vulcan took a deep breath, dropping to his knees. It still took a lot out of him to try- practicing for it was brutal enough; he'd never had to really use it. _

_Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the crowd cheering, shocking and intrigued words being spoken. But Selak didn't listen, he just laughed as two slaves pulled him off the ground, dragging him back through the gate._

"You just can't imagine what it's like to… to move like that. To feel like… like you're on top of the world. Or… or that you control it somehow. I don't know… it's probably not a good thing, but I do love it. I only wish they'd remove that chip."

"Why won't they?"

"You tell me. You're the shrink." Selak sighed. "They think it'll make me kill people or something. Or maybe they're just afraid of it. I don't know."

Tylus shrugged. After a pause, he asked, "Selak, may I ask you something?"

"If you'd like," Selak responded, absent-mindedly, as he gazed outside the room.

"Was there ever a time, in the arena, when you… well, feared that you… wouldn't leave?" Tylus asked, trying to beat around the bush rather than say the word out loud.

"You mean," he smirked, turning to see the man, "Did I ever think that I was going to die in the arena? Of course… every time I stepped foot out there. Well, that is until one day…"

_It had been five months by the Human calendar. Five months since he had gotten there, and still no word. No word of escape or a way out. _

_Stepping forward, he accepted his weapon- the same bland knife- and stepped up to the gate. Cheering erupted on the other side of the gate; his opponent must have entered. In a few moments his gate would open and allow him entrance. _

_With a deep breathe, he watched the gate inch its way up, slowly allowing him to see more and more of the arena. First the brown sand, the stadiums only once the door had risen to eye level. A second deep breathe, he pushed away his worry, cleared his mind and readied himself to fight. _

_A nod from the guard told him to walk out. Selak didn't respond, just stepped forward, out into the waiting crowds' eyes. A second wave of cheering and jeers met him, coaching him further into the arena, all the while scaring him into wanting to leave. _

_The Vulcan felt the familiar feel of sand beneath his feet, moving through his toes as he walked forward, coming face to face with his opponent. It was a rough faced, large alien- one he had learned was enslaved by the Amochu for centuries: the Gwri. _

_Taking in the man quickly, it was easy to find his weak points- his stomach, the only part of his upper body that wasn't covered in the thick blue scales. Selak already knew, without seeing, that his back was covered with them, designed to protect the spin and lungs hidden behind a weak ribcage. _

_Looking him over, he immediately could tell that, though he was strong and appeared quite brutal, he was neither agile nor fast. He could use those to his advantage; hopefully he'd be able to get to his stomach. _

_Automatically, he mimicked the greeting gesture, clasping his hands over the knife handle he held in his hand._ _With a small bow, both instantly moved to fight. Selak starred at the other slave, waiting for him to make the first move, for him to be able to use the Gwri's strength to his advantage. _

_The alien tried to lash out at him, his knife gleaming in the artificial sunlight in the arena. Selak dodged the maneuver easily, able to jab him in the side, the Gwri's scales protecting him from the brunt of the impact. _

_Selak scurried away, luring him away from the center and towards a platform off to the left of the arena. The structure reminded him of the playground he had once seen on Earth, platforms of different heights surrounded by bars and poles stuck in the ground and rising high in the air. _

_The Vulcan swung himself up onto the lower podium, turning to see the Gwrin on his tail. Selak knew for a fact that his small, more agile body could operate quite well on the structure, making it easier for him to fight against the bulkier, slower alien who would find it hard to maneuver on the thing._

_The Gwri grunted with effort as he tried to cut Selak in the leg, not yet ready to jump onto the platform. Selak dodged the knife easily, recognizing his strategy for what it was- he wanted to try and drive him off the platform to shift the playing field once again to his advantage. But Selak wasn't having that- instead, he went further up the structure, forcing the alien up onto it. _

_Quickly, before the Gwri noticed what he was doing, he jumped down, leveling his knife with the Gwri's stomach. But the Gwri turned at just the right moment, causing Selak to not stab him but, instead, cut off a few scales. The alien shouted in rage, anger growing in his clouded eyes. _

_Selak's smile grew, the young Vulcan jumping away from his fierce attacks. Without problem he climbed and jumped and maneuvered through the structure, causing the bulky Gwri to get confused and stuck in certain places. _

_The frustrated Gwri shouted once again in rage, making the crowd laugh at his stupidity. Selak looked up at the crowd, knowing that half the point of the arena was to keep the audience on your side- that was the only sure way of staying alive in the sand pit._

_Suddenly, the smug grin faded from Selak's face, surprise and shock replacing it. Looking down, he saw, to his amazement, that the Gwri was removing his bloodied knife, covered in a greenish red liquid. _

_The Vulcan's own weapon slipped from his hand, allowing it to move over his abdomen. He could feel the hot blood against his palm as he looked up at the alien, his brain still trying to process the last few minutes. _

_His knees began to feel weak, bending under his body's weight. The alien's face began to spin; he, like the rest of the arena, distorting and moving. Selak barely felt his back hit the ground when his knees finally caved in. _

_He closed his eyes, the artificial light too bright for his head to take. Breathing started to hurt, every inhale disturbing his wound. By then the pain was finding its way up his chest, his neck, and down his right leg. It was far worse than he had experienced so far in the arena. _

_Resting his head on the cold podium, he let his eyes slowly open. Just as the shouts of the crowds seemed so distant, so did the light. All he could see was the waves of pain flowing through his veins; all he could think about was the fact that he was dead. The audience would have a majority vote for the kill- he was dead, and he accepted it. _

_He let his eyes slide closed, waiting for the second piercing blow that would finish him off. Waiting for the Gwri to kill him. For the hell he had been living in to end, to just get life over with. _

_For a moment, he even allowed himself to imagine what might await him- would there be a God like his Human part thought, or would his katra live on forever on a higher plain? Maybe he would see the Profits, his pagh could go to the Celestral Temple. But what did the Trill believe? He couldn't remember… _

_Through his musing, he never noticed that two other slaves were pulling him off the podium, dragging him onto an anti-gravity stretcher and bringing him to the gate. Selak opened his eyes, barely glimpsing the Gwri moving away to his gate- he must have moved away some time before and Selak had never noticed. Never noticed that he wasn't going to die…_

"They, of course, had ways to quickly heal you. I was only in the "Infirmary" for a couple days. I went back in the arena barely a week later.

"After that, dying wasn't such a scary thought; I started to become cold, distance even from Leto. I think he understood- he must have seen something like that before- hell, I saw it before me." A soft, humorless chuckle escaped him. "I promised myself I wouldn't become like that, guess I broke it."

Sighing, he turned away from his fellow Vulcan. "Tylus? Do you know what the three most important things in life are?"

"No." The counselor looked at the Vulcan with curiosity, he had no idea where this was going.

"Love, honor, and freedom. Leto taught me that- it's an A'Kesh thing."

"He taught you a lot about the A'Kesh?"

"Yes, but only the religion and so forth- not anything that Starfleet would be interested in."

"What about speed-walking?" Selak just glared at him; Tylus knew that he wasn't going to repeat that to anyone, not that he hadn't already stated what a bitch it was to learn. "And this? When did he teach you about this?"

Selak turned, remembering when he had talked to Leto more than learned or practiced- it seemed more important at the time…

"You're not focused."  
  
"Should I be?" Selak snapped, throwing down his knife. It was an odd week, which meant practice with Leto. But it didn't mean he wanted to fight. At that moment, he just wanted to go home. To go away from there.  
  
The A'Kesh looked at the knife he had thrown away; he was obviously annoyed at the younger man's irritation. "I'm sorry, Leto. I shouldn't have-"  
  
"Acted your age? It's quite all right. In fact, I've been waiting for you to lose your tight control." The A'Kesh sighed, sitting down on the cot nearby. Selak followed him, sitting a foot or so away.  
  
"You've been distant lately. Not talking to me, or any of the others. You're fighting is becoming stiffer. I've seen it happen many times; I had hoped that, perhaps, you would be spared."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"You know what the Kal'har are, don't you?"  
  
"Yeah, the living dead. They're all over; the one's that just want to die," Selak said, almost matter-o-factly. He had seen them before, they were indeed everywhere. Slowly becoming that way, just wandering around pointlessly. Not eating or drinking. Then, one day, they either just don't wake up or they allow themselves to be killed in the arena.  
  
"You're becoming one. I can see it."  
  
"I am not!" Selak protested, looking in horror at the man he was slowly calling mentor… and friend.  
  
"You are. You still have time, but you will eventually." Leto sighed once again, seeing the young man look away.  
  
"But you haven't," he suddenly protested. "You've been here for a long time and never became a Kal'har."  
  
"No. Because I know what many do not realize. There are three things in life worth living for, my young friend. Love, honor, and freedom. You have all those things, no matter what you may think. And always will, as long as you know you have them. Never forget that, Selak."  
  
The Vulcan nodded slowly to himself. He wasn't sure what the alien was talking about- he had no freedom, he was a slave. But he would take his words to heart. Leto rose, picking up Selak's discarded knife.  
  
"We do not have to practice today if you do not wish it. Tomorrow, if we can." Selak just nodded, stood and walked away.

"You know, I lost all of those things there. He told me to try and keep that from happening- but it still did," he explained, not looking at Tylus any more.

"The freedom's obvious but-"

"I lost my family, my friends… I thought I had lost everything I could ever possibly love. After only a few months I was parading around my successes with no thought at all- I killed without a shred of honor. I thought my physical incarceration meant I had lost my freedom, but it didn't…"

_Selak stood at the gate, waiting patiently, if not excitedly, for it to open. In a way, he just wanted to get it over with. He was tired after all the fighting he had done in the past week, it was starting to drain on him. _

_"Ready to kill another person?" Leto taunted, his voice no longer the playful sarcasm Selak had grown accustom to. _

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"Just look at yourself! You enjoy this!" He yelled, apparently ready to fight, verbally if not physically. _

_"Enjoy it? You think I like killing people? That I want to do this?"_

_"You sure act that way!"_

_"Me? What about… never mind, I don't have time for this." Selak brushed him off, turning away. _

_But Leto persisted. He grabbed Selak's shoulder, thankful that his shield had already been deactivated, and spun him towards him. "No, I want to hear what you have to say."_

_"Well, then. Let me refresh you memory, Leto, you're the one who trained me! So don't you go having doubts about what you created!"_

_"I created? You're the one who's gone way over your head. That's not my fault! Good-bye Selak, I hope somehow you'll find peace from this hell."_

_"Leto! Leto! Get back here! I'm not through with you! Leto!" But the A'Kesh was already well down the hall, he wasn't going to turn around. Selak sighed; the gate was rising. He was no longer looking forward to this fight. _

_Selak stepped over the threshold, his feet hitting the soft dirt, a dramatic change from that of the warm sand. He looked over his shoulder, seeing the other man being taken away- not worried that one day it would be him far from his mind as he saw the gate close. _

_His hand reached up to push the long strands of hair from his eyes. He could feel how unkempt, how oily and dirty, it had become, but he simply hadn't had the time to shower between sleeping, eating, training, and fighting in the last week. The same went for shaving; running a hand over his chin, his fingers were met with rough stubble, the hair growing much more than he had allowed before. Perhaps he would bath that night, shave and cut his hair._

_"Your weapon."_

_Selak looked over at the guard. The same procedure as always. With a simple flick of his wrist, he easily caught the blade in his hand. The guard taking it indifferently. Turning away, Selak barely notice the sticky feel on his right hand, bit it was there nonetheless. Looking down at it, is eyes caught the faint redness in the dim light. _

_Out of impulse, his hand went to wipe itself on his pant leg, his mind telling him to move forward. But then, suddenly, he stopped- froze where he was. Once again, his hand turned towards him, his eyes starring almost blankly down at it. _

_Another man's blood- a man he killed. That was what was covering his hand, the hand of a gladiator- no, a murderer. A slave. _

_Killing was never meant to be a sport, never for any reason. _

_But where- when- did he cross that line? When did he go from innocent child to popular gladiator? When did his attitude change- when did he lose his disgust at the thought of seeing blood? His hatred of what he was ding? When did he talk about his dead opponents with pride? When did he learn to smile at his enemy- with his enemy- and laugh about the "game"? When did everything go wrong?_

_Selak's eyes were glazed over, starring but not seeing. His hand began to shake. Sobs raked through his body as the realization of what he'd become hit him. He was no creation Leto had made… he was his own creation- he was what the arena made him. What survival had made him. _

_He saw that… saw that Leto was right… _

_And he didn't like it… _

_He didn't like it at all… ****_

"Leto and I didn't talk after that. Not for a few days. He wasn't around and I… I just didn't care anymore. I barely ate, couldn't sleep. I'd seen it before; it happens to everyone after a while. I had always hoped that it wouldn't happen to me…"

Selak stopped, taking a deep breath. "Three… no more than four days later I had my first match since that last one. I was up against a Yion. Ugly creatures- large but fast. I don't remember a lot about the beginning. Just the basic things happened I guess.

"The first thing I remember really about the fight was that he cut me in the thigh before it began. Then he just suddenly grabbed me…"

_Selak felt the Yion grab a hold of his chain, tugging it closer to him. The pressure on the back on his neck increased, forcing Selak to move closer to the alien, able to feel his hot breath on his face. The back of his neck burned; he could feel that his collar had cut him. _

_"I had heard you were one of the best," the alien whispered, Selak's translator able to pick most of it up easily. "I even had a moment when I feared I would die in this sandtrap," he admitted, a coy smile playing in his eyes as the tip on his knife danced across Selak's stomach, hard enough to feel but not pierce the skin. _

_With a second tug, he pulled Selak's ear to his mouth. "I think that was premature." In an instant, Selak felt himself meet the sand below him, his entire right side covered with the hot sand, wincing as his open cut filled with the particles. _

_Looking up at the Yion, his face a question. The alien just grinned, like a mad hunter who was playing with his prey. "Run, little boy. Play the game." The Yion approached steadily, his insane look enough to make Selak crawl away, his eyes darting back and forth between the arena and the alien. _

_"Run, Hybrid, make this all the more fun for me. Come on, I wanna have some fun."_

_Selak looked up at the crowd, their jeers and shouts growing louder, their fists pounding their chests in the sign of the kill: they wanted the Yion to kill him. His breathing quickened, his heart pounded- he couldn't do this. _

_Pushing himself up, he looked around, knowing that he was growing close to the podium. He was backing himself into a corner with no weapon- he was surly dead. There was no way out for him, he couldn't kill the man, he was too afraid, too off guard. He couldn't do this. Perhaps it would be better, everything would finally be over. _

_Looking over at the gate, he could see- or thought he saw- Leto's face in the small barred window they sometimes allowed others to look out. Leto was watching him; he could tell, even from the distance, that Leto was scarred for him, worried that he would be killed. _

_Looking back at the Yion, he could see his leer. He was ecstatic; he was about to kill the only Federation slave to last over three months. To kill the hybrid that had gained so much popularity. He was about to win the battle of his life. _

_But then, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Something was shinning; something silver was reflecting the lighting. Furtively he looked a bit more in that direction, careful to keep the Yion from noticing. _

_There was his knife, the one that had been so easily knocked from his hand. If he could only reach it, only get to it. But there was no way, he couldn't move fast enough, couldn't possibly keep the Yion from knowing what he was doing, the alien would kill him before he had time. _

_Selak felt his heart pounding in his chest. He was dead. He only had a few more meters before he hit the podium, then he was a dead man. The Yion would corner him and kill him… and the audience had lost their interest in him, they wouldn't vote him to live. He was dead, he was… _

_Selak looked back at Leto. The one and only friend he had found in that hellhole. The only of his kind he had ever met or befriended. A good man; he didn't deserve to be locked up in the arena, he deserved better. _

_Leto nodded, seemingly in the direction of the knife. He wished he could tell Leto that he wanted to try, that he really would have tried. But it was pointless, there was no way to go fast enough to… _

_Not fast enough for a Federation Hybrid, sure. But for someone who could speed-walk. All he needed was for the Yion to be in just the right position. Enough that he could get to him fast and finish this, but keep him out of the way of the knife. _

_Continuing to back up, Selak tried to quickly figure it out in his head. He took a deep breath- it was now or never. In the blink of an eye, Selak moved to grab the knife, spinning around to get behind the Yion. The alien was so shocked he hadn't a clue what to do. _

_Turning around as quickly as he could, he only made himself walk into Selak's blade. The Vulcan pulled out the knife, his hand once again bloodied. He looked down at the wound; he had intended to kill him in one, swift blow- a deadly one. But, instead, the alien had caused himself to extend his life for another few, painful minutes. _

_"I guess… I was wrong," he said, his face etched in shock, before he collapsed. The Vulcan looked at him, he was dead and Selak was once again a murderer for the benefit of his captors. Pitifully, he stuck his hand up in the air, showing off the bloody knife, as waves of applause filled the stadium. _

_Two slaves ran out, holding a stretcher, as they ran for the dead slave. Another came from Selak's gate, taking his hand and leading him back to the gate, taking the knife from him as they went. _

_Selak's mind processed everything as if it were a second were a century. Things slowed down, noises and voices blurred together. _

_"Spectacular finish," Leto commented, bowing his head. "Look, Selak, I was a jerk- I was right, but I was still a jerk about it." _

_The Vulcan chuckled, nodding. "Forget about it."_

_Leto nodded. "Are you going to be alright?"_

_"I don't think I'll ever be alright."_

"I was ready to die. I had accepted that I was going to. But, something, somehow, I realized… I realized that I didn't want to.

"And, you see, I realized I was wrong. My freedom was not truly dependant on my ability to come and go as I pleased or to be free of restraint- it was to be free in my mind. To still be able to think and feel as I wanted.

"And I hadn't lost all that I loved- there was still Leto. A man I respected and regarded as a friend. I still had his love and respect as a friend.

"But honor… honor came with the fight. Showing mercy to those I fought and who I killed… that was how I started my life over…"

_Selak starred down at the young Ferlin at his feet. He was barely a boy, no more than twenty years old. His fighting was limited; it amazed the Vulcan that he had even been selected to fight. Perhaps he had lied. _

_The Ferlin had lasted only minutes against Selak, fighting and diving and running in a manner that Selak had very little tolerance for. It had been a simple enough matter to hit him in the face, knocking him to the hot sand beneath his feet. _

_The Ferlin starred up at him with scared, brown eyes. His lip seemed to quiver in anticipation of his death. His chest rose and dropped quickly, mounting in sync with the crowd's pounding of their chest, chanting words of death. _

_Selak looked away from the young boy, watching the audience for a moment. It was ultimately their choice whether or not a slave that had been disarmed and fallen would die. If they chose it, that was what the winning slave was compelled to do…_

_Selak saw their fists pounding their chests, telling him to kill the Ferlin. He had obviously not amused them in the few weeks he had been in the arena. _

_Selak looked back at the fear-filled eyes of the Ferlin. They reminded him of another young man with brown eyes. Selak hadn't thought of him for months, having other thoughts- other nightmares- the past few weeks. _

_But, as if a dam had broken, he suddenly remembered the young Irish Human named Miles. Suddenly remembered the blank look in his eyes as he stared off, dead in an instant after the blast hit him. _

_But that boy was always afraid. Always skittish when he walked out of the walls of the complex. Always afraid that he would die that day. And, the one day Selak had convinced him otherwise, he had been killed; shot dead in a mere second. _

_The Ferlin at his feet reminded him of Miles. Afraid and young. He knew he was going to die, just as Miles had in a way, and it terrified him. The thought of being killed by an enemy he didn't know. _

_Selak looked into his eyes, watching them for a moment, his face passive. Then, ripping his sight away from the boy, he looked back at the crowd. They were still pounding their chests, waiting for him to finish off the Ferlin. Slowly becoming bored with him as well. _

_Selak sighed, looking back down at the Ferlin. He adjusted the knife in his hand. And, with a flick of his wrist, he tossed it down. The knife dug into the sand next to the Ferlin, missing his body by a few centimeters. _

_He starred up at Selak with stunned confusion before looking back at the knife. Then he looked back up at Selak, who now held his hand out. Selak pulled him to his feet, ignoring the shocked protests of the crowd. _

_Then, just as casually as he would walk out of his own bedroom, he turned and walked away. Heading for the gate that would allow him access to his sleeping area._

"So, you sparred him against their wishes?"

"Yes. Though it didn't go over well with the audience, it was with Koval. He had like me since the first time he had seen me in the arena."

"What did he want?" Tylus asked.

"Me."

"How do you mean?"

"He wanted me to become his bodyguard, basically. Leto said it was not uncommon for it to happen- bodyguards can only be made from slaves, the soldiers are too busy. Therefore it's often gladiators that are chosen."

"So you went with him?" Tylus looked at him, almost thankful that he was looking away. If he said yes, his words would be almost as good as admitting to treason.

"Only because Leto insisted that I would never get another chance like that. He said that few ever survived as long in the arena as I had." Selak paused, not bothering to look at Tylus. He could sense what he felt about that. It was bad enough that he had interacted so much with an A'Kesh but the Amocku as well.

"That's when I got the implant," he continued, as if he had never ceased. "That way I couldn't use speed-walking to escape. Koval said that he wished he hadn't had to. It seemed that my speed walking amused him, but he wasn't yet sure of my loyalties."

_"I've been watching you for the past few months, 726," an Amocku stated, approaching Selak as he spoke. _

_"Really, what an honor," he drawled, not sparring the man a second glance as he cleaned his arm protector- something he had won weeks past. _

_"That was a good fight; bad idea, but good fight."_

_"What are you talking about?"_

_"They told you to kill him, you didn't. You went against a couple of rules there," he said, his voice neither scolding nor amused. _

_"Too bad, I did what I thought was right."_

_"You just left him open to be killed by the guards; you diminished your reputation even more."_

_"What do you mean, 'even more'?" Selak asked, still not looking up at the man. _

_"Well, you've been getting softer after that… fiasco a week or so ago."_

_"What 'fiasco'?"_

_"When you were nearly killed by that Yion. Look, 726, I'm an Amocku-"_

_Selak looked up at this, commenting, "I've noticed."_

_"Which means I've been watching gladiator fights since I was young-"_

_"Great pastime, perhaps your people should consider baseball."_

_"And I know what gladiator moods are," he finished, ignoring Selak's insubordination. _

_"Please, enlighten me, since you're the expert."_

_"Slaves like you go through phases, if you survive long enough. You start out scared, afraid, at first not having a clue what's going on around you. Then, after a while, you go cold, not caring about killing everyone around you- out in that arena. Then, one day, you walk out and you know that you are going to die- not because the other's bigger than you but because you're ready to die and give up."_

_Selak had watched the Amocku closely as he spoke, the alien growing closer as he spoke. "Really, thanks for the insight. Now if you don't mind-"_

_"Something happened in that arena. You were ready to die- I saw that. But, then at the very end, you decided to win. Why?"_

_"That's personal."_

_The Amocku nodded, stepping back some. "Really? Well, you do realize that your popularity is dropping fast. One slip, you're dead."_

_"Thanks for the tip."_

_"I have an offer for you-"_

_"I'm a slave, remember? I can't accept or deny you the right to buy me. But you'll have to talk to my master. Now, if you'll excuse me-"_

_The Amocku grabbed his arms, stopping him from walking away. "I already did, and I already own you, 726. I want you to be my bodyguard; you have two days to finish up here and I'll be back." With that, he let go of Selak, walking away without a second word. _

_"Good, good, you look better," Ambassador Koval- Selak's newest master- commented, seeing his new, flashier clothing. _

_"It's harder to move in," Selak complained, not caring that none of the other slaves back-talked the Ambassador. He really didn't care that his sarcasm could get him killed; it really didn't matter anymore. _

_"You'll get used to it. You just need some practice." The man snapped his fingers, a slave walking out at his command two staffs in hand. It was a young man, eighteen or nineteen in human years. _

_He stepped up to Selak, offering the staff to him. Selak looked to Koval, the man nodding to him. Selak sighed, taking the staff and checking it out, finding its center of gravity and getting a feel for the weapon. The boy prepared himself, waiting for Selak to do the same. _

_The boy lashed out, Selak able to block the blow easily; the boy was hardly as trained as Selak had assumed. He himself dished out a few offensive blows, hitting the boy but only hard enough to make him feel it. The boy, however, was trying his hardest to pull a muscle as he operated the staff, lashing out with all the strength he had, Selak able to easily block them. _

_Getting bored of the entire thing, he made up his mind to get behind the boy and disarm him, ending the fight. Preparing himself to speed-walk, he found himself stepping right into the boy's staff, soon finding himself on the ground. _

_"Oh, yes," Koval laughed, seeing what Selak had tried to do. At the same time, the boy tried to take one last hit, Selak just grabbing the staff in his frustration and pulling it away from him. Jumping up, he looked to Koval to see what he had to say. _

_"We gave you a small implant; it'll keep you from speed-walking. Just, of course, until I know I can trust you. Wouldn't want you to… run away. It's so unfortunate, I do so like that little move."_

_Selak glared at him, reaching up to his neck, his fingers searching out the place the implant might be. "Under your right ear. Right there," Koval instructed him, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Selak was looking for it in hopes of ripping it off. _

_Sliding his fingers over his skin, just under his ear, he found the slight bulge. Perhaps it wouldn't be as easy as he had thought. "Don't worry, you won't notice it after awhile. Trust me."_

"So you were his slave?" Tylus asked, watching Selak pace.

"Yeah, not like that lasted very long. I only stayed with him for… four, maybe five months," Selak shrugged.

"Do you remember anything about being there? Anything-"

"Nothing Starfleet cares about," he spat.

"Alright, something you want to talk about?"

Selak diverted his eyes, looking once again out the window. "There was one thing…"**__**

Selak stepped through the triangle doors, carrying a large tray of food. He scowled in disgust at how much Amocku could eat- at least this time he only had to delivered fruit. A few days before it had been raw meats.  
  
"Here, boy," Koval grunted, his eyes starring at the vid-screen in front of him. Selak walked up, careful not to make a noise as he knew Koval would be upset by the disruption it caused. He had entered before while Koval had been in a meeting or watching televised programs, he knew very well not to speak during those.  
  
Quickly, yet quietly, he put the tray down, stepping back and away. He stood off by the wall, an area that made it difficult to see the screen, but he knew that Koval didn't appreciate people reading or watching over his shoulder.  
  
"No, no. Come here, boy. I think you'll enjoy this." The Vulcan looked at him, a bewildered frown on his face. But, as told, he stepped closer and peaked over to see the vid-screen. His eyes widened as he recognized what Koval was watching. On it was a large, 3-D image of the sandpit.  
  
It was his arena, if he wasn't mistaken- not that he had ever seen any others. His eyes moved to the fighters, wondering if any were from his barracks. But then he would assume it was someone he knew to make it interesting- a past challenger? When the image zoomed in closer, he saw that he was right.  
  
There stood the Ferlin he had fought last, the same young man he had sparred the life of. Selak almost smiled- he had survived four more months because he hadn't killed him. But that joyful spark evaporated when he saw his opponent. Leto stood at the ready, his position poised to kill. Selak had seen him fight only three times in his many months in the arena.  
  
He had been fortunate enough to survive almost two years in the arena and his owner- Selak's former- had seen fit to make him a trainer. He was only used for entertainment, a quick kill, or stand-in, as Leto had once told him. For nearly three years Leto had lived that life. He had survived the arena for five years, it was amazing that no one had bought him. Selak had no doubts in Leto's ability to fight.  
  
On the contrary, he knew first hand how good he was. He was more afraid for the young Ferlin who had very little experience compared to the A'Kesh. And no speed-walking ability. The Ferlin was dead. But Selak hadn't missed the look in Leto's eyes: he was prepared to die. He was a Kal'har.  
  
"Hmm, I thought that A'Kesh was killed years ago. He's a good fighter though; this should be interesting." Selak rolled his eyes at Koval- he must have seen some of Leto's matches. Selak watched as Leto moved towards the Ferlin, his body moving faster than the eye could follow.  
  
But the Ferlin ducked at just the right moment, dodging the knife and knocking over Leto in the process. Leto was quick to get up, shaken by the event but the Ferlin was already on him. In barely ten minutes, the match was over, Koval himself surprised at the speed.  
  
Selak just starred at the screen, not blinking- not breathing- as he watched slaves carry out the gurney.  
  
"Well, I guess he's dead now. I've never seen anyone do that before- see where an A'Kesh was going when they do that. Interesting. Positively fascinating."  
  
Koval remarked through his fruit filled mouth, running a hand through the projection just as the slaves removed the dead body. Selak just starred at the empty space, not even blinking when he heard, "Come on, boy, hurry along. You've got things to do."

"So… you watched Leto die?"

"Yes. If I had just killed the Ferlin, that wouldn't have happened- he'd still be alive," Selak raved.

"And you might not be. Most likely you wouldn't have survived much longer."

"What do you know about it?" Tylus quieted, Selak solemnly starring back. "I'm sorry."

He sighed, "You know, as horrible as I thought he was in that moment, I don't think he knew that I knew Leto. I think he just thought it was amusing that I was watching the Ferlin."

Tylus nodded. He wasn't so sure about that, but he would take Selak's word for it. "Is that all you remember about being with Koval? Anything else that stands out?"

"Yes. One thing really. I think it was that one thing- a small thing- that made me… I hate to say it, but it made me respect him."

_Selak sighed, trying hard not to shift on the padded seat. For almost an hour he had been traveling with Koval in a small but rather luxurious transport pod. _

_Once again he glanced to his side, a habit he had acquired in his youth from the amount of time he had spent traveling. But, as always, he was met with a darkened window, making it impossible to see out. _

_He finally adjusted his arm, unaccustomed to the feel of the restraints digging into his wrists as he was unable to bend his elbows enough to make himself comfortable. _

_Sitting up straighter, he looked over at Koval. The Amocku paid no attention to him as he read over his notes. It was what he always did on these trips, just sit and read notes or talk on the vid-phone with someone. _

_Then he would spend his time in meetings or party or host "guests"; Selak would just stand around, somewhere close but nothing too close to infringe on his "personal space". No, he was never paid much attention, not even the other Amocku gave him much more than a glance. _

_He turned his head away, looking at the window as if it might suddenly undarken. A sudden wave of longing washed over him. Even through the days in the arena and on OP-167 he hadn't thought much of his home- neither the colony or Betazed, or even Earth. He had, at times, wished that he could hear his mother's voice or feel his father's strong arms around him like when he was a child. _

_But, in that moment, he would give his life just to see Earth's blue oceans or Betazed's beautiful skies. At that moment, he would have settled for Omega III's fall out shelters. _

_"You've never seen the outside of Devenion, have you?"_

_Selak's head spun around to see Koval looking thoughtfully at him. No, in truth he never had. Any windows in the house were always covered when slaves were around, and he hadn't seen any of the surface when he was in the arena. Also his trips outside the house gave him no opportunity to see anything. The house had its own docking bay and so did the Embassy they were going to. With the window darkened and the windows in the Embassy covered with fancy curtains, he never got the chance to see anything. _

_"No, I guess I haven't."_

_"Would you like to?" Selak's head tilted to the side, he had never known Koval to speak without a taunt or tease or rage in his voice- at least not to a slave. He had especially never heard the kindness in his voice that he had just heard. _

_At Koval's nod, he looked to his window, the rustic scenery flashing by as they went. A vast amount of trees obscured his view of anything past them, vines having grown overtop of the tall plants. The path cleared some; Selak able to see the many small hills and valleys that created someone's plantation. And, just beyond that, tree-covered mountains lined the horizon. He looked up, seeing the warm, pastel hues in the sky- it reminded him of a summer afternoon on Betazed. _

_A sad smile tugged at the tips of his lips as he thought once again of his mother's home, the one she and her twin brother had grown up on. The one his cousin had grown up on; the one he had spent many days living on with his brother in the winter months of his planet. He just hoped he would live to one day see it again. _

_"Do you like it?"_

_Selak turned to look at him. "Yes, it's lovely."_

_"Our homeworld once looked like this; perhaps that is why I am so drawn to this place." Koval was no longer looking at him, instead intent on reading his notes. Selak looked away, back at the window. It was darkened again._

"How long were you with Koval?"

"Not long. It wasn't long after that… three more months, maybe. Koval, um… had an off world meeting. It was something he rarely did, mostly he stayed there, but he did go."

"And you went with him as security?"

"Yes, each time. It wasn't until the last time that it happened…"

_Selak walked two strides behind Koval, careful not to lag behind or walk too close- he was supposed to be inconspicuous, not lost. _

_He reached his hands behind his back, clasping them securely with his hands. It was a far more comfortable position but made nearly impossible by the constant restraints on his arms. But, just recently, Koval felt that he trusted him enough to not use them any longer. And, for some reason, he felt that he was- too loyal? Or too respectful?- to go back on that trust. _

_He slid his one hand along the handle of his new knife. On his newest freedom, he earned himself a knife- Koval had thought him quite capable of hand-to-hand after seeing him in a match in which he killed a man with his bare hands. It had a beautiful, smooth handle, grip-fitting rather than the leather covered ones in the arena. He even got a leather sheath to put it in- the sheath fitting on his belt. _

_He moved fluently behind his master, not sparring a glance for other slaves or Amocku. Though many other slaves would part and bow to all Amocku, his status left him able to ignore such things, not that his ego would allow him to do so anyway. _

_Suddenly, the ship lurched forward, sending him right into Koval. The Amocku landed with a thud, Selak right on top of him. He rolled off quickly, not able to stand because the ship was shook again. _

_Red lights flashed, alarms blaring as the lights dimmed. Selak jumped up, putting out a hand to help up Koval. The Amocku took it, leaning into Selak as the ship shuddered violently, making them both crash into the wall. _

_"What's happening?" Selak yelled over the noise._

_"We're under attack!"_

_"What's this ship's weaponry systems? How well can it defend itself?"_

_"Not well. There is a small escort, but they could be taken out with a large enough attack force. This ship has very limited shields and weapons."_

_The lights changed abruptly, switching from blood red to dark blue. "What does that mean?"_

_"We're being boarded!"_

_"We should get out-" Selak was interrupted by plasma-fire, pulling down Koval as he dropped under the cover of fallen bulkheads. _

_"As you were saying?" Selak opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he saw three Heyta walking into the corridor. "Well? What are you standing there for! Fight them!"_

_"They have plasma rifles, what do you expect _me_ to do?"_

_"There are only three of them!" _

_Selak sighed, shaking his head at the terrified man. Then he looked out at the boarders- they were Heyta, once the allies of the Amocku. Heyta were so furious and dangerous that they weren't even kept as slaves to be in the arena- just shot and executed. _

_The Vulcan gulped; he couldn't take down three Heyta by himself with only a knife. Shifting, he ran from his shelter to another spot, pressing against the wall to protect himself from the plasma fire. He peaked out, hoping to find a way around them. _

_There wasn't one. _

_Selak sighed, his mind in overdrive. A small piece of debris caught his eye. Bending over, he picked it up. Then, maneuvering backwards, he hid himself in the debris around him. He chucked a piece of metal down the hall, hoping that they didn't find Koval before he could take care of them- or that they would at least be dumb enough to take the bait. _

_Luckily, they did. The one sent the other two to investigate, while he stood there. Selak pulled out his knife slowly, trying not to make any sound as he worked. All the while, he tried to go over Heyta anatomy. Right in the left hip was the most deadly place to hit them. _

_Once the two guards had passed, he straightened some, aiming his knife for the stationary Heyta's hip. He hit him dead on, the Heyta crumpling over dead. _

_The other two turned to see what happened, hopping to the ready and walking closer to their dead companion. When they almost reached Selak's hiding spot, a rustling movement caught their attention. Selak knew immediately that it had been Koval. He cringed, unsure as to what he'd do next. _

_One of the Heyta walked over to the sound, the other turning his back to Selak. The Vulcan took his chance and jumped on him, trying to find the correct pressure point. But, before he could, the Heyta flipped him onto his back, his gun trained on his chest. _

_"Look what I found," he taunted. "A Federation slave."_

_The other snickered, responding, "I think I found his master- cowering in the corner." Selak looked, finding that he did indeed have Koval in his grasp. "What should I do with him?"_

_"I don't know," he spat. "Oh, um… kill him! We'll take the Hybrid with us."_

_"Yes, sir."_

_"Nooo!" Selak shouted, his voice lost among the trembling of the ship, the blaring alarms, and the plasma blast. _

Tylus sighed, he was starting to get a little confused. "So you tried to save Koval? Save an Amocku from a Heyta?"

"Yeah, I guess. But I did have a better shot at living with Koval than the Heyta." Tylus shrugged, taking in the last scene that had been told to him. "You know, the thing was that by that time, I was actually starting to like Koval."

"What do you mean? As a master?"

"No, as a person. He really wasn't a cruel man. And, contrary to popular belief, not every member of the species of our enemies are evil. He could be kind if he wanted to and it was a good household to live in by Amocku standards."

Tylus nodded, urging him to continue. "At first being with the Heyta didn't seem that bad… I guess I just didn't allow myself to image what more they could do to me."****

_"Ah. Now doesn't that feel better?" Copus said as he removed the shackles. "Must feel nice to finally have those off."_

_"Thank-you," Selak groaned, nodding his appreciation to the man. _

_Copus chuckled softly. "I have never met a Federation who could utter such a language as the Amocku's. But, I suppose you must have had to learn if you were to live among them."_

_Selak's brow furrowed, he never realized that he spoke in Mokun, it was just something he did after a time. With effort, he spoke once again, pushing his own language forward in his mind. "It was… mandatory that I… learn it."_

_"Yes well…" he paused. "Your hands, they weren't bound. As I understand it, that is what this is for, correct?" Selak saw him gesture to the hooks designed to connect the hand restraints. He looked away, knowing that the Heyta was taunting him. _

_"Now, why would they leave yours disconnected?" Copus looked down at him, a small frown appearing. "Answer me." Selak looked up at him, surprised by the change in the sound of his voice. It seemed to have changed, sounding far more computer-like than natural. Selak almost wanted to do as he asked. _

_"I was a gladiator before being bought by Ambassador Koval," he explained, as if it made perfect sense. _

_"And you traveled to protect him?" Selak nodded, his mind sluggish. Copus spoke again, switching his voice back to normal. "Now, what I can't decide is whether or not you feel bad because you didn't protect your master… or because you protected your enemy."_

_Selak snapped himself out of his stupor, angered. "I did what I did to survive."_

_"And will you still do what you must do to survive under this, different, situation?"_

_"Every moment is a different situation. Survival is only having the knowledge of how to go from one moment to the next."_

_Copus just laughed. "You amuse me, child. But you know what I want?" His voice changed once again as he shouted. "Tell me what you know! Tell me what you know of the Federation ships. About the Amocku ships."_

_Selak shut his eyes, his jaw tightening as he tried to shut out Copus's voice. "I will tell you nothing."_

_"Tell me!"_

_"No!"_

_His voice changed back to normal. A strange frown appeared over his face, his scales shifting in the movement. "I have heard that you Federation hybrids_ _were strong- both physically and mentally- but I had no idea how good you were. But-" _

_The Heyta grabbed his shirt, pulling him far off the ground. "Perhaps a few days locked in a dark room with no food or water will change that." Selak's breath caught as Copus threw him across the room. _

_"Take him away!"_

_Selak let out a soft moan as his head hit the solid wall. He looked up at the Heyta, the alien frowning at him. It looked like the same expression he had seen on Copus only moments before. _

_The Heyta let out a grim cackle- the same the bad guys in old movies would always use- telling him, "I hope you enjoy your stay."_

_Selak cringed at the loud screeching the door made in protest. As soon as the door shut, he was met with darkness. Selak tried to look around, but there was nothing. No light, no nothing. _

_He sighed, leaning back until he felt his back against the cool wall. He would just have to wait for them to come get him or for his eyes to adjust so that he could see the room he was in. That is, if there was anything to see. _

_Selak groaned, resting his head on the wall. Copus had said that he wouldn't be allowed to eat or drink. As a part Vulcan, he couldn't survive almost eight days without water, ten or eleven without food. Unfortunately had he tested that before- he could handle it once again. _

_Selak opened his eyes. It was dark. It was always dark… there was never any light. Light was almost a foreign idea to him. _

_He pushed himself up, his arms shaking with hunger. Five days… five very long days without food or water. _

_He sighed. His stomach was growling with hunger. He tried to swallow, hoping to help his dry, cracking throat. But it did nothing more than feed his thirst. _

_His ears perked, hearing a strange screeching sound. It sounded familiar in a way. He looked over to where it was coming from. Selak quickly put his arm up, trying to shield his eyes from the light shinning through the opening door. _

_"Oh, good. You're still alive. How are you doing? Hungry yet? Oh, light too bright? I can turn it off… or get you some food."_

_Selak frowned… he was pretty sure the voice belonged to Copus. His nose flared- he could smell something, something good. Sweet… meat perhaps. His mouth watered, he nearly forgot what was going on around him. _

_"Just tell me," Copus said, his voice changing. "What I want to know."_

_"What do you want to know?" Selak started to laugh. "I know quantum physics and algebra and… Latin. I know Latin… I think I know Latin."_

_The Vulcan grunted as Copus's shoe hit his jaw. "I was giving you a chance… now I'll get what I want. Pick him up."_

_Two Heyta grabbed onto his shoulders, pulling him off the ground, his feet a couple of inches above the ground. _

_Selak's eyes watered uncomfortably as he tried to shield the bright light from his sensitive eyes. He fought against the Heyta, scarred of where they were taking him and what they were about to do. _

_He wasn't able to see where they were, only able to feel as his body was tossed onto a chair. His hands and arms were chained to the chair immediately. He heard the two guards walk away, though he didn't know if they left or not._

_Selak whipped his head around, trying to find a way to see better. His eyes were still tearing, adjusting slowly to the light. He had never experienced such a fierce burning in the back of his eyes as he did then. _

_"Uncomfortable, it is? I'm sorry… this isn't the Federation's finest." He frowned- what Selak was learning was a smile. Copus moved closer, blocking the light that was glaring in Selak's eyes. "Now you'll wish you had just talked to me."_

_Selak's heart quickened; he didn't like the sound of Copus's voice. It scarred him more than his first skirmish. "If you had only listened, I wouldn't have to do this."_

_Selak's breath caught as Copus's scaly hand grabbed his forehead, holding it still as he pressed a few buttons. The beep echoed in the Vulcan's pointed ear. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see what was going to happen. _

_He gasped. Something pierced his neck, burning and tearing at his flesh. _

_"Right now, there are several liters of a mind altering drug being pumped into your body. Isn't it ironic that we got it from your Federation?"_

_Selak starred up at him. He had heard of such drugs being produced, he had never thought them true. "Right now, it's molding your brain- making you much more pliable. You'll start hallucinating - those hallucinations will start showing themselves soon… _

_"I hope they're not too scary," he taunted. _

_Everything starting to become a blur. He couldn't see Copus's face anymore, it was only a mixture of yellow and brown. His mouth was agape, sucking in air as his eyes rolled back. _

_He tried to look away, trying to focus on something, but everything was the same as Copus's face… distorted and twisted. _

_He could see his world in front of him… his mother cradling his little brother when he was only a babe. Selak couldn't help but smile, his father's kind voice was just behind him._

_He wanted to stay there for eternity… _

"Obviously, I don't remember much about those experiences."

"You hallucinated a lot?" Selak looked at the doctor, understanding that his sentence was more a statement then anything else. "Did you tell them anything?"

Selak sighed. "I don't know. I don't think so. I mean, Copus was never satisfied, so I must not have told him anything of value."

The Vulcan ran a hand through his hair, standing and walking over to the window. He watched the flowers sway in the gentle wind for a moment, noticing how well the sunset captured a pair of purple plants.

"They did that… for days. Letting my body expel the toxin before starting a new. It was horrible every time…"

_Selak's body was dumped in a heap on the ground. He looked up in time to see the blurred vision of the Heyta guard shut the door, his world once again enveloped in darkness. _

_He lowered his head to the ground, tears falling from his eyes. Silently, he wept, his body rocking gently as if calming himself. _

_Then, just as suddenly as his serenity came, he halted, heaving. His stomach clenched, forcing out his stomach continence, expelling the drugs that had been pumped into his system. _

_He heaved again, gasping for breath in between the liquid pouring from his mouth. Selak spat, clearing his mouth, only to heave yet again. _

_With deep breaths, he tried to calm his stomach. Crawling away, he dropped to his side. His eyes slide shut, well aware of the fever spiking in his body. _

_The stench of his bile hit his nose in constant waves as he woke- he was just thankful of the dark that kept him from seeing it. The tightness of his stomach muscles and soar throat hurt badly, but not more than the waves of nausea did. But then there were the tremors, the sudden enhancement of the cold mixed with his fever. _

_His vision was blurred; he couldn't remember where he was. He couldn't remember much. Just the desire for something… a place were nothing mattered… where he wasn't hungry or sick or cold or in pain. He just wanted it to stop. _

_As another wave of nausea hit him, he doubled over. His stomach heaving as it tried to rid itself of something that wasn't there. A few deep breaths calmed him enough but his stomachache hadn't subsided, through the hunger and nausea it was horrible._

"I don't remember much of the days between those sessions. They brought some food and water… I tried eating it. I think it only made it worse at times."

Tylus nodded, he had had his days of being sick in the past. When he was young, he had caught a bad strain of the Bolian flu. He was in bed for five days. But he had a bed, his mother there to give him good food and a cold cloth, along with painkillers to make him feel better.

"It was the worst few weeks of my life."

"I couldn't image. Going through withdraw in a dark cell by yourself. How horrible is that?"

Selak was only able to nod. Just thinking about what had happened to him made his stomach turn. "There wasn't much specific that ever happened. Copus tried and tried to torture and drug me into helping him. Telling him something. I don't know how I managed to survive nine months there."

He took a deep breath. "I… was often taken to this room. It was dark, kind of. I sort of liked it, the lighting that is. He hung me from the ceiling on these… shackles, just like you see in museums. They dug into your wrists, I still have scars.

"Um… there were all sorts of things he'd do to me. I slipped unconscious once in a while, it hurt that much sometimes." Selak sighed, "There was only really one time that I remember to any degree…"

_The shackles dug deep into his skin, sending small streams of green blood down his arms. His arms were tired, practically asleep, from being held in an upright position for so long. The strain on his arms grew, as they had to support his body for a longer and longer period. _

_His upper body was cold; they had stripped him of his clothes and there was a strong draft. His eyes stun, dried tears on his checks from when they had watered at the sudden bright lights. His voice, he knew must have been hoarse after all his screaming. _

_The smell of copper hit his nose in steady streams. Thick, green blood covered his torso. Burns had been placed all along his back, glossed with his green blood. His chest was sliced; a sharp knife, he barely recalled, had been repeatedly run across his bronze tinted skin. Light green stained his body, the visible traces of red proving his mixed heritage. The dried blood was becoming uncomfortable, sticking and pulling in certain places. _

_The taunting voice of Copus hit his ears once again. "How are you feeling?"_

_"Fine. Doin' good."_

_Copus grunted, hitting Selak hard across the face. "If you have noting to say that will interest me, then I do not want to hear your voice!"_

_The Vulcan looked down, taking a deep breath. "Well, you're in quite a mood today." He chuckled at himself, asking, "Did you wake up on the wrong side of your plasma rifle?"_

_Copus yelled in frustration, his hand coming down hard on Selak's shoulder. The Vulcan screamed in pain. He could feel, and hear, his shoulder popping out of its socket. His body titled awkwardly on the chains, pulling harder on his good shoulder. _

_The Vulcan's eyes closed in pain, trying to quite his whimpering as he felt waves upon waves of pain burning through his arm and chest. _

_Selak looked up at his torturer. The Heyta looked almost shocked with his actions, storming off after ordering someone to let him down. _

"He dislocated your shoulder?"

"Yeah. I'd never seen him like that before. He was abusive, but he never did something like that, before or ever again. It scared me to death. When I got back to my cell, I had to… repair it on my own. God that hurt. I don't recommend it."

Tylus nodded, "Yeah, I've had my shoulder dislocated before. But I at least had painkillers, and a doctor, before they set it."

Selak nodded in amusement. "Other than that moment, there wasn't much else… substantial. Nothing that I really remember in bulk. Other than that they… broke three fingers once. That hurt a lot too. Other than that… not much."****

"How did you get out of there?"

"Get out? Well… like most days, I was hanging, having been tortured when the place was attacked…"

_Selak's arms were completely numb, not a completely uncommon feeling over the past year. The burning in his wrists had disappeared with the rest of his arm's feeling. His nerves were spent- they hardly felt the pain as it was given; now it was nearly gone. _

_His feet were flat, trying to lessen the amount of gravity pulling on his body. The chain swung slightly, tugging harder on his shoulders. _

_He coughed suddenly, smelling something burning. Looking up, he noticed that smoke was starting to filter in the room. Pulling hard on the chains, his mind spun as he realized what was going on outside the room he was trapped in. _

_Shouts and explosions filled the room, making it to Selak's ears. Plasma blasts rang just outside the door. Words in Heyta caught his attention; the few of them he could understand saying that they were to retreat. _

_His eyes and throat stung, making him cough again. His fidgeting grew more frantic, his arms throbbing with pain as they began to wake up. His feet fought to find the ground, pulling harder on his shoulders- one of which he was certain was beginning to be dislocated. _

_The door slid open, a four-person team of A'Kesh stormed in. Selak froze as four plasma weapons were trained on him. After all he had gone through in the past two years, he couldn't believe he was going to die there- like that, shot with an A'Kesh plasma rifle. _

_His face was completely passive as he watched, waiting for them to fire and finish him off. At least it would end his suffering…_

_But that never happened. The second man to enter- presumably the leader- straightened from his crouch, lowering his weapon as he stepped forward. His face displayed his shock, his voice mirroring it as he asked, "Are you a prisoner of the Heyta?"_

_Selak starred at him a moment, tears filling his eyes just as his lungs burned from the smoke. But the A'Kesh seemed unaffected by it, which didn't surprise the Vulcan. _

_"No, I just like handing around here. You know- dark, cold, damp, drafty. I'm thinking it could use one small window right there… but you know the Heyta." Selak would have shrugged if not for the position he was in. And yet he almost flinched knowing that any Heyta interrogating him would have struck him at that point. _

_The A'Kesh smiled at him, apparently catching the sarcasm in his voice. "Cut him down," he said in his native tongue to the three commandos. Two ready their weapons, aiming them high. Again, Selak hung, impassive in the face of his enemies' weapons. _

_Selak heard the plasma fire almost simultaneously as felt the impact of his feet on the ground, hurting his ankles. He fell to his knees, grunted as he was gathered into the lead A'Kesh's arms. _

_"How badly injured are you?" He asked, seeing the condition the man was in. _

_"I don't know; I can't feel much anymore." He grinded his teeth, deciding that it wasn't worth correcting himself and telling them how painful it was to have his arms waking up. _

_"Very well. Take him- bring him to the ship. I want him to have medical treatment for these wounds."_

_Selak starred up at the man- he was completely serious. His gray eyes looked the Vulcan over as he helped him stand; he seemed disgusted, but not nauseated, by what he saw. Perhaps he had seen similar things before. _

_But, before Selak could analyze it farther, the commander turned away, leaving him secured by two of the commandos._

"So you were saved from the Heyta by the A'Kesh?"

"Yeah. The weird thing was… the only thing I really remember about that man… was how much he looked like Leto. Now that I think about it, he had… ridges on his hand," Selak said, deep in thought as he remembered a face from long ago.

"But, um, anyway. They took me on their ship, gave me some medical assistance. But I was still pretty hurt and scarred. Suddenly… terrified in my own skin. I mean, I had been so… cocky and arrogant and just talked back to everyone else before. I laughed in the face of the Heyta's punishments, and talked back to Koval without fear no matter how much he threatened me or punished me for it."

He took a deep breath, admitting, "It was something about how… how caught up everything got. It was like suddenly I realized what had happened to me in the past few years. Like I suddenly had an actual fear of dying. It was terrifying."

Selak sighed, "The first that happened when we got… wherever we got… they took me off the ship, blindfolded. Then interrogated me…"

_Selak glanced around nervously, not able to see anything. The cloth stuck to his mouth as he inhaled, making it harder to breathe. The wooly material made his face itch, driving him insane for he had no control of his hands. _

_The A'Kesh guard suddenly stopped, pushing down on his shoulders. Selak's knees buckled, landing him in a chair. He felt his arms unbound, only to have the guard force them in front of him. It felt as if they had been put on a table and strapped down._

_Selak struggled against the binds, trying again to free himself, but it was to no avail. He sighed, giving in for the time. It would be useless to waste all his energy. _ _"Ah, you are the Federation Hybrid my men found in the Heyta prison. It must be quite refreshing to be able to smell clean air once again," a voice joked.  
  
Selak turned his head, trying to determine where the voice was. It sounded like the man was moving- he could faintly hear footsteps. _ _"I'm not going to ask you many times. Just once, hybrid… what did the Heyta want with you?"  
  
Selak sighed, keeping his mouth shut. "Maybe I didn't make myself clear." Selak tried to look up at where the voice was, but was occupied by the feeling of a sharp knife being run over his hand. _ _"Now, why did they torture you? Heyta, though barbaric, have more… effective torture methods." _ _  
  
"He didn't like me much," Selak responded, more sarcastic than he knew the man would tolerate. _ _Selak's breath caught when he heard the knife cut into the wood table his hands were on. His one finger could almost feel the metal of the knife's blade.  
  
"Oh, well. I haven't practiced in some time." He said, giving Selak the impression that he had meant to stab him._ _" Now tell me!"_ _  
  
"I don't know!" He flinched as the knife cut into the table again, this time very close to his pinky finger. "They tried other things, it didn't work."_ _  
  
"That's better." Selak almost heard the smile in his voice. "Now, what kind of things did they ask?"_ _  
  
"I don't know." He flinched again, the knife close to his thumb. "They mostly asked about ship designs. I never told them anything."_ _  
  
"Very loyal of you. How long?"_ _  
  
"What?"_ _  
  
"How long were you there?"_ _  
  
"I don't know. A while," he answered. He couldn't image what they wanted with him. Anything he knew was most certainly out of date._ _"  
  
Tell me what you know of the new Federation ship," he demanded._ _  
  
"Nothing," Selak croaked. He did not survive the Heyta to tell the A'Kesh what they wanted. _ _The blade came very close to his finger; this time he didn't flinch. If the A'Kesh had wanted to hurt him, he would have by then. He was just trying to scare him. _ _  
  
"Tell me!" _ _  
  
"I didn't tell the Heyta. I won't tell you," he said. _ _  
  
"Very well." Selak took a deep breath. It sounded as if it might be over. He almost smiled with satisfaction. _ _Once again, he heard the sound of the knife slicing through the air and toward the table. Before he could react, he screamed. The knife had gone straight through his hand. _ _  
  
"Woops, I told you I was a little rusty with this thing." Selak was panting, trying to catch his breath as the pain shot through his arm. "Now, tell me."_ _  
  
"No."_ _In one, swift moment, the A'Kesh pulled out the knife, sending a new wave of pain through his body.  
  
"Tell me!"_ _  
  
"No!"_ _Suddenly, the A'Kesh began to laugh.  
  
"I like you, hybrid. You are very brave… that or foolish. But the Heyta, they are hard to resist. If you resisted them as you say, then I shall never get anything from you. Take him away. And fix his hand, he can't work with that wound." _ _Selak felt the bounds undone as hands pulled him out of the chair, taking him away from the man._

"They stabbed you in the hand?"

"Yeah, you can still see the scar if you look," Selak explained, holding out his hand for Tylus's inspection, pointing to the flesh between his thumb and forefinger.

"Then what happened? After they decided you didn't know much?"

"Well… I'm not really sure. I don't remember that much. They gave everyone- all the prisoners- implants in the wrists to keep track of us. That's one of the few things I remember. Scar- one of the guards, he had a huge burn scar on his cheek- was the one to do it…"****

_"Hello, my dear friend. How are you this fine eve?" Selak looked up at Scar, scowling. Every day for nearly a week, Scar had been by to give him food and generally annoy him. _

_Scar pulled out a small, triangular device. The Vulcan looked at it in confusion, a stray feeling of fear creeping up upon him. _

_Without noticing, Scar motioned for another guard to come over. Suddenly, the Vulcan was on his knees looking up at the taller, intimidating version of Scar. But he just smiled, peering down at the young man, enjoying the sight of his prisoner._

_Barely noticing what was going on, his mind so focused__ on the device, a hand snatched his right wrist, holding his now outstretched hand still. Instinctually he tried to pull away, the sudden movement startling Scar but didn't hinder him. _

_Turning his attention quickly from his hand to Scar, he watched as the alien placed the machine on his opened palm, just above his wrist. The dark shade of black clashed with his pale skin. Then a sharp pain burned through his skin; the feeling striking him as what he imagined small needles ripping at skin and muscles might feel like._

_A few seconds later, the pain had subsided some, the hand releasing its tight hold. Scar bent down to look the Vulcan in the eye. "Have fun. I am sure that we will be seeing each other soon."_

_Scar only gave a quick, odd gesture to the guard before leaving, his long, loose fitting clothing swaying with him as he marched away. _

_Strong hands grabbed the Vulcan, pulling him to his feet and dragging him away…_

"After that, I was assigned quarters. That's when I met Lieutenants Willow and Douglas and Ensign Carter- they were my… roommates, for lack of a better word. That's also when I found out that I was at a mining facility…"

_Selak stepped through the opened door, feeling himself stumble as the A'Kesh pushed him through. He spun around, wanting to glare at the alien, but the door shut closed on his face. _

_"What do we have here?" Selak's head shot around, hearing the familiar cadence of Matt's voice, a man he knew to be dead for nearly two years. _

_"Look, we got ourselves a Vulcan!" A second exclaimed, a smirk on his face just as it was in his voice. _

_Selak looked over at him- a brunette with filthy, long hair. He was reclined comfortably on a bunk. The first man to talk was behind him on another bunk. Eerily enough, he looked a lot like Matt, dark hair and crystal blue eyes. Even his voice was too close a match for Selak's taste. _

_Looking over the room, he found it was completely bland, owning nothing but four gray wall, a gray floor and ceiling and four bunks. _

_He saw that across from the Matt look-a-like, sat another person, this one female. She was paler- much like Selak's skin was at that moment- with short blonde hair and hazel eyes. _

_"Ah, we're just teasin' ya! Sit down, make yerself at home."_

_Selak looked up at the ceiling- two light fixtures were built in, making the room brighter than his eyes were used to. Walking slowly, he approached the empty bunk. He starred down at it- he hadn't slept on anything but the floor for some time. _

_"It ain't gonna bite!" Selak looked over at the brunette, raising an eyebrow. That was always his response to something stupid Copus would say. He barely spoke to him, choosing to annoy him with his silence instead on most days. _

_Sighing, he sank down onto the bed, his body rigid. "Damn yer tense, man. Just relax, lie down, bury yer burdens," the Matt look-a-like teased. "I'm Roger, but the way." Selak nodded, vaguely remembering that it was a proper acknowledgment. _

_"Oh, Daniel."_

_"I'm Kathryn. And you are?"_

_He looked her over a moment, realizing that she was expecting an answer, as were the other two. "Selak."_

_"Selak, welcome to A'Kesh prison camp fifty-three."_

_He thought a moment, remembering that he had to speak to be heard. "It's much better than the other places I've been to."_

_"Ah, been a prisoner long?" Selak nodded, finding he enjoyed Daniel's soft Betazoid accent. "Just under two years here," Daniel stated. "Roger's been here sixteen months; same with Kathryn. You?"_

_"Twenty seven months."_

_"Really? Move around a lot?"_

_"You could say that," he responded, feeling more comfortable speaking. _

_"How many camps?"_

_"This is my first."_

"There wasn't a lot that went on there, in the A'Kesh camps. They definably were a lot better than anything else. The occasional beating of a prisoner, but they weren't random or unprovoked. I mean, if you talked back or something like that were the only real reasons they hit you."

Selak sighed, maybe that wasn't the way to phrase it. "Anyway, all we did there was… mine. Nothing else. Just mined whatever it was. Some kind of compound they used for whatever. I don't remember many things on their own, just a mess of things that happened there."

Tylus nodded. It wasn't often that one could tell such mundane things from another. Most of what the mind recalled were specific events that stood out for whatever reason.

"There was one thing I remember quite clearly. My first day mining. I was a little… confused…"

_Selak was already awake long before the others. He had slept on the ground that night, not able to get comfortable on the cot that had been left for him. Instead, he was now sitting calmly on the ground, trying to mediate. He had often used his time in the Heyta cell to do just that. _

_But the others didn't rise until a bright light filled the cabin, flashing in five-second intervals. Two loud noises followed that. 'An alarm clock,' Selak thought, amused. _

_He opened his eyes, standing only to find that the other three were sitting up in bed. _

_"Have a good nap, everyone?" Roger joked, standing and stretching. _

_"Five hours is hardly a nap."_

_"Really?" Daniel retorted, laughing at the Vulcan's joke. He looked up at the Vulcan; Selak could feel the vaguely familiar feeling of someone brushing his mind. Selak couldn't remember the last time he had encountered someone telepathic. _

_"Don't mind, Roger. That's just his way of keeping sane."_

_Selak nodded at Kathryn, startled out of his stupor when she spoke. "So, what do we do here?"_

_"We mine."_

_"Mine?"_

_"Yeah. Never mined before?" Daniel asked with a smirk. Selak shook his head; it definably wasn't his forte. "Have fun then."_

_The door opened automatically, the three walking out without thought. Selak followed behind, seeing dozens of others walking out of their barracks as well. _

_Selak got into the single file line, staying behind Roger so that he knew someone he was around. An A'Kesh guard shoved a tool in his hand, not sparring him a second glance as they all squeezed into a turbolift, descending down into the mineshaft. _

_Selak, surrounded by people and the dark, small shaft, suddenly felt the air forced out of his lungs. His heart felt as if it had stopped. He only knew it hadn't because of how fast it was beating in his ears. His hands were sweating madly on his tool. _

_"You ok?" Selak turned to see Roger watching him oddly. He just nodded, his mouth too dry to try to speak. _

_The car stopped, the doors opening to let everyone out. The Vulcan let out a deep sigh, rushing to get out. But what he found on the other side didn't do much in the way of making him feel better. _

_A guard led them forward, suddenly telling them to stop. Selak just looked around- everyone else seemed to know exactly what to do. _

_"Roger? What am I supposed to do with this thing?"_

_The man looked at him, glancing over his shoulder. "Shh, there's no talking allowed."_

_"Yeah, but-"_

_"No talking!" one of the guards yelled from behind Selak, his voice loud and echoing in the quiet cavern. The Vulcan winced when he felt the butt of his plasma-rifle make contact with his back, sending his face hard into the rock wall. _

_He slid down, stopping only once he hit the floor. The A'Kesh guard kicked him in the back, only adding to the bruise he had created. _

_Selak moaned; pushing himself up once he knew the guard would not strike again. He reached up to the skin just under his left eye. It stung badly, obviously in pain from scrapping against the wall. Sure enough, once he took his hand away, he could scarcely see the red tint of blood on his fingers in the darkness of the mine. _

"Is that how you got that scar there?" Tylus asked, having noticed the scar the minute he saw Selak's face.

The Vulcan nodded. "Yeah, it scarred rather badly, as you can tell. It got infected and whatever. Then I had no way of shaving, so that hurt. But it did cover it up."

"Why didn't you keep the beard, then?"

"The doctors at Starfleet Medical wouldn't let me. They said it would be healthier if I shaved it and started again later. But I don't think I'm going to. I… don't really want one," Selak admitted.

He cleared his throat, going back to his story. "Um, the three roommate I had, they all remained. I mean, none of them were killed or taken somewhere else. Over the year I was there, we actually became friends.

"Daniel and I talked a lot about Betazed, family and whatever. We found out we're very distantly related."

"Really? How?"

"Well, our great-great-great-great- and so many great grandmothers were sisters. They were the great-grandchildren of Deanna and William Riker."

"Really?"

"Yep. Very distantly related. Um, Roger, I found out, was Matt's… cousin I want to say. They're related somehow. And um, Kathryn was… is very nice. She actually is… like a twelfth Trill. The rest Human. So we talked a little about Trill. But we're not related, though. I don't think anyway."

"So, you liked them all?"

"Yeah, they were the only three people I had to talk to for a year, what do you think? I mean, we had our arguments, but working every day we were too beat to argue. Except for the one off day we had, but that was it."

He took a breath, standing and walking once again to the window. "Anyway, the last… two months we were there, we started to think up a way out. It wasn't overly complicated… we just found out when and where the transport pods came, to take the shipments away. Then we managed to get certain… distractions to escape the mines and get to the ship…"

_His feet felt heavy, his breathing labored. His muscles were tight, barely willing to function. The adrenaline pounding through his system. But his eyes, they were focused on his destination: Freedom. _

_A mechanical clicking alerted the four; locking mechanism were locking all doors and halls were about to be blocked by barriers. They sped up, their escape dependent on it. Roger ducked underneath the door first, making it to the safety of the other room. And then Daniel, following the first, made it under easily. _

_Selak looked over his shoulder, waiting for Kathryn to catch up. He beckoned her under, then dropped to the ground, trying to roll under the door to make it through. _

_He was almost out… almost to freedom… _

_Hands grabbed his feet, turning him awkwardly under the closing door. A sudden white-hot pain ran through his torso, spreading over the rest of his body. A shriek of pain alerted his friends of his distress. His friends turned, seeing him trapped underneath the door, crushing him to the floor…_

"And… that's about it. They pulled me out and carried me to the transport. We got out and were found. The rest I assume you know."

Tylus nodded. "Yeah, I've read the report."

"Well, now that I've told you," Selak paused, looking at him. He took a deep breath, finishing, "I think it's time for you to leave."

"Oh… right. Thanks," he said with a nod, shocked by Selak's sudden detachment. "Um, wow, yeah, it's getting late. Thank-you for… talking. Telling me. You know if you want to talk-"

"Yeah, yeah. You'll be around."

"Right." Tylus stood, heading for the door.

"Oh and doc?"

"Yes?"

"Next time they send you to record something, hide the recorder better." Tylus blushed, ashamed, as Selak pointed out the device he thought had been well hidden.

"I'm sorry but-"

"Hey, I know. I didn't mind."

"Why did you tell me all that if you knew?"

"Because I want them to know something. I don't care how court-martialed I might get for some of the things I did. I had little choice- I never expected to be freed."

Tylus nodded, turning again with the pretense of walking out. He stopped suddenly, turning back to Selak after a moment.

"You know what?" He said, pulling out the recorder. "Computer, erase all data. Just between the two of us, huh?"

With that, he turned and left. Selak just smirked.

**_/-/-/-/-/ The End /-/-/-/-/_****__**

Well, I hope you enjoyed it all.

I really love the end- the point was to show that they become friends. (Just a note, Tylus is the man with Selak at the end of the last chapter, which is about four years after this last clip). There was some more that was supposed to fill in those four years so that you could see the bioweapon being created and Selak working on his time-traveling device, then even some clips from where he went back to his time in the middle of the story. But it just didn't flow well and I couldn't get some to work.

I still have the clips I wrote, if anyone really wants to read them. But I will warn you that they're scattered and some aren't complete. I don't even remember if I proofread them, so… but it you want them, email me at . It'll be no problem to give it to you.

Again, thanks very much to all of you who have read this story and reviewed. I appreciate it very much. I hope you enjoyed it. Please R/R with your final notes, and if you want those scenes.

Also feel free to check out my other stories, I have StarTrek and Stargate stories.

Thanks! Love ya'll!


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